Revelry
by MimiLuvs16
Summary: A special occasion has come into the lives of the Grant family. For Nasira Grant, this is a day of celebration, but also a day of remembrance.
**AUTHOR'S NOTE(as of December of 2015... I am going to leave it there):**

 ***waves***

 **Hey, y'all.**

 **(Hopefully, this will be published during the Holiday season) First off, I would like to wish everyone a successful, fun, safe and wonderful Holiday season. And for the folks who aren't "into" the whole thing: I also wish you fun and safe days as well.**

 **(If not, well, I hope that you did enjoy your Holiday season.** **J** **)**

 **Okay, folks! This story right here is not a part of the "Eric and Nasira" impending pentalogy. Actually, this is something that I always wanted to write, but it didn't fit within the timeline. So, this story had to be place on the 'cutting room floor'. However, I couldn't ignore this story any longer. So I decided to write about it.**

 **This story right here is what I consider a "short filler": it is a short story, but nothing really important happens in this chapter. No drama. No lemons or limes. No action and pivotal moments. I've decided to write this story because I wanted my characters to be 'fleshed out' some more. I also wanted to express just how close the Grant family were with each other, as well as, give Nasira's and Eric's relationship some stronger roots. I realized, beforehand, that both Nasira and Eric didn't really develop a companionship at all. She doesn't know much about him to really…** ** _Be in love_** **with him.**

 **Plus, I wanted to write something that contained fun and sentimental.**

 **This story is an A/U for the "Divergent series" and it is strictly non-canon. 'Eric' is strictly OOC and he is not depicted in the same manner that is in the Veronica Roth-written novels or from the film adaptations. There isn't any mentions or depictions of the Abnegation massacre, the faction war or about divergents (well… not really).**

 **WARNING** **: This story is RATED T, because it contains adult language, adult-related situations and adult content. This story is for the ages of 16 & up.**

 **DISCLAIMER** **: *points thumbs to myself* I don't own any of the Divergent series property. It belongs to Veronica Roth. The O/Cs are the only properties that I own.**

 **Thank you for all of your reviews!**

 **Please rate and leave reviews, if you must!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _BAH-RRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNGGG! BAH-RRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGG!_**

 ** _'_** What…?'

 ** _BAH-RRRRRRIIIIIINNNNGGGG! BAH-RRRRRRIIIINNNGGGG!_**

"Mmm?" Nasira moaned into her feathered-down pillow. Her awareness were trickling into her brain, clearing out the sleep-induced fog that was circulating for the past six hours.

'The… Phone… Get it.'

 ** _BAH-RRRRRRIIIIINNNGGG!_**

'Get the… Phone.'

 ** _…_** ** _RRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNGGG! BAH-RRRRRRIIIIIIINNNGGG!_**

Her plump lips lazily smacked against each other to chase away the mild case of cotton-mouth that was going on. She pursed the plush layers of flesh before murmuring "Phone" to herself, into the soft pillowcase. With more awareness seeped into her brain, she opened her left eye. Sunlight welcomes her by kicking her directly in her retina. She quickly shut her eye and then grimaced, as the mild discomfort stung at her eye. "Mmm," she groaned with distaste. Her left hand shot out in front of her and made contact with her nightstand's countertop. Her fleshy fingertips grazed the smooth surface for her black cell phone. Once her fingernails crashed into the hard plastic cover of the phone, she quickly snatched up her phone.

"Hello," she grumbled into the phone's talk-piece, after connecting the call and cutting off the abrasive-sounding ringtone.

"Nassy!" was almost shouted into the caller's phone. It spilled out of Nasira's phone and into her ear, which was the unfortunate victim to the abrasive call.

"Dante?" she groaned as she rolled onto her back.

"Yeah, it's me. Open your door," her eldest brother instructed.

She grimaced. 'Why? Did we have plans to meet up today? And why-in the-hell is he so early in the got-damned morning?' She opened her eyes. "Why should I…?"

"Trudy is at your front door right now. She said that she's been ringing your doorbell for the past fifteen minutes," he reported.

"…open my… Wait…" She slightly grimaced. "…Why is Trudy—

" _You promised_ her that you would take her—

"No, I didn't." She shook her head as she glared up at her bedroom's ceiling. 'No, I didn't.' Her left hand pressed the phone closer to her ear.

"Yes, you did. You—

"No, I didn't. I—

" _Yes, you did, Nassy._ You—

Nasira's scoff in disbelief cut him off. _"_ _No… I didn't, Dante._ " She licked her bottom lip. "If I did invited her, then I would remember. Dante, why would I promise your life-mate that I would take her out today? We aren't exactly… Close."

Dante sighed into the phone. "I really wish you guys would stop calling her that?" he grumbled, with mild irritation.

"What else should we call her? She's not your wife, because she _can't_ be your wife. Calling her your ' _baby-mama'_ is low-class and low-brow. And it is apparent that she means more to you than a 'girlfriend', so the term 'life-mate' is suitable," she explained to her brother.

A gruff-sounding breath was blown out of the cell phone's ear-piece and it made Nasira imagine an ornery bull. "Yeah-yeah, whatever," he groaned. "And by the way, before you kept interrupting me, I was trying to tell you that you promised to take Trudy out because you promised Mama that you would…"

Enlightenment, in the form of a memory that involved a telephone conversation with her mother, came across. She indeed promised her mother that she would escort Trudy around while she was in the Dauntless territory. The Amity mother-of-one wanted to go dress shopping, for an outfit that she could wear for the night's special event. She felt that none of her older outfits would be appropriate for the festivity. Plus, she wanted to buy the Grant matriarch a birthday gift. She originally asked Mrs. Grant to accompany her, but those plans had fallen through due to ambassador business unexpectedly popping up. It was during this conversation in which Nasira's mother asked her to take her pseudo sister-in-law out, for a shopping trip.

Nasira remembered saying 'yes' to her mother's request because she didn't want the woman to feel guilty for unable to complete her intended promise. Plus, the older Grant woman had just started her first round of chemotherapy procedures and she was already displaying signs of physical fatigue. Nasira believed that her mother needed all of the rest that she could gain.

"…take her out today."

Her face frowned up, after she realized that her brother was indeed correct: She did promise to accompany his life-mate of four years, out for a shopping trip. She grunted into the phone. "Fine… You were correct. I just remembered that I did promise Mommy," she confessed.

"Mmm," he hummed smugly.

'Yeah-yeah-yeah,' her brain groaned. 'You were right.'

"So, now ever since that was cleared, can you please let my girl— I mean, _Trudy_ , in? She has Nova with her."

Her top lip snarled. "Fine," she groaned. "But…" Her right index finger jabbed at the air. "…if she starts up with her 'happy-happy sunshine' routine, I will cut the shopping trip short," she warned her brother.

Dante snorted. "It's fine by me!" he cheerfully announced. "You guys would be here before the party starts, so y'all could help me out. Plus, she won't have an outfit and my credits will remain untouched and not bothered! She has a shit-load of clothes in her closet, back home. She could've picked one of those," he pointed out.

'He's such a cheap-skate! I should take Trudy to the Legacy Shopping Center and make sure that she buys the most expensive dress in there!' She smiled. 'Mmm…'

"Can you guys come to the house before four o'clock today? The guests were told to start showing up around six and I want everything to be ready and prepared, by the time the first guest arrive," he told her.

Nasira released a chuckle. "That's quite a feat for you, D! Now you know that a Grant party was never thrown on time, in the history of the Grant's lineage."

"Well, I am planning on shattering that vicious cycle, Nassy…"

She giggled.

"Trudy and me and Nova had shown up to the house on Wednesday night. We had gone shopping for the food, on Thursday morning. We began making the pies and cupcakes and stuff on Thursday night. Trigger had brought his sorry ass over on Friday morning and we had to drive _all-the-way_ back to Amity, so we could pick up the lamb. Last night, we had that sucker inside of the masonry oven. We all have been taking turns throughout the night, watching it. It's almost done and hopefully…"

Nasira's right fist reached out…

"…knock on wood…"

…and performed three firm taps against the nightstand's wooden top.

"…nothing goes wrong with it," her brother told her.

"So, Trigger is already there?" she asked him as she drew her right arm close to her.

"Mmm-hmm," confirmed Dante. "Samson said that he will be here before noon. He's—

"Sammy is always on time," she interjected.

"So, I'm not worried about him. Rogue, on the other hand… I told him to be here with Mama before eight o'clock." He chuckled. "You know, _not late_."

Nasira smiled. "Did you hear anything about Goliath and the twins?" She really hoped that her other brothers would be able to make it to the party. For the fraternal twins Atlas and Pollux, they lived in Erudite, so if they didn't make it, then it would've been excused. Especially, with the current policies that were erupting throughout that faction, for its members. When it came to Goliath Junior, on the other hand, he was a Dauntless member. In fact, he also worked out of the Defense Department as well. His possible absence from the night's event would've been spoken about, whether if it's in hushed tones or out-of-the intermediate family's ear-range.

"Nope, I haven't heard a word from them. The last time that I've talked to the twins was last Tuesday. We talked about that new curfew that the Erudite leaders have created for them," Dante informed her.

"Speaking of which—

Dante released a chuckle that showcased his feeling of emotional discomfort. "Let's not, please" he asked of her. "Today is supposed to be a good and _happy_ day for all of us. Today is Mommy's birthday and tomorrow is Luke's birthday. I don't want to talk about that crazy cow that's in Erudite because it will lead to us talking about di— Nope, I'm not going there."

"It's alright by me," she told him. "Have you spoken to Goliath, by chance?"

"Nope, just like the twins, he has gone off of the grid. The last time that I've spoken to him was last month and the conversation was short."

"Mmm, same with me," she reported. "Do you think that he will show up?"

"I hope so. He was Mama's favorite, after all."

Nasira unleashed a squeal of disbelief. "No, he wasn't," she told him.

" _Yeah, he was!_ "

"No, he wasn't. It looked that way because Mommy was always affectionate towards him. But, he wasn't her favorite kid. He was…" She sighed and contemplated of an appropriate explanation. "He was… _Different_ from all of you guys and it made him feel bad and Mommy knew this."

"How was he _different_? He looked like us. He wore the same clothes as us. He had friends, growing up. No one bothered him, when he was in school—

"Dante, come on now!" She sat upright in her bed. She stared straight ahead, at her closet's door. "Who, in their right mind, was going to bother Goliath when he was a kid? Especially, when he had _you_ and Trigger and Atlas and Pollux and don't forget our gang of cousins… _All of you guys_ in the same school with him?" She sighed. "What I was talking about is the fact that all of you guys had reputations and he felt as if he had to compete with that."

"That's bullshit," Dante uttered.

"It sounds like bullshit, but it is completely true," she told him. She grabbed her layers of blankets and she removed them from her legs. She swung her legs off of the edge of the mattress. "Even _I_ felt it, when I was in school, especially during my high school years," she confessed as she settled her feet onto the floor. "You guys were the smartest, the best and the brightest. Plus, there was the Grant dynasty hanging over my head."

"Well…" he sighed. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like a loser, Nassy."

"Nah, you've never did. Well, except for that _one time_ ," she informed him.

"What time?"

" _You know_ what time that I'm talking about," she told him.

"No, I don't."

"I'll give you a clue: Luke wasn't born yet, during this incident."

There was a seven-second silence before she heard an "Ah-oh! I know, now!"

She smiled.

"Now, I know which incident that you're speaking about. Now, I know," Dante pointed out. "So, I heard from a little birdie that Luke's father is going to show up tonight. Is this true?"

"Mmm," she grunted before standing up. "Which…" She pressed the phone in between her ear and her left shoulder. "…big mouth brother…" Her hands lifted in the air. "…of ours told…" She stretched her limbs, smothering out the flames of fatigue. A hearty yawn was conjured up. "…youuuuu," she yawned into the phone.

"I'm not telling you," he told her.

Seconds later, her bared feet searched for her slippers as she stared at the hardwood floor. "It was Trigger," she said to him.

"No-puh," he uttered into the phone, drawing out the word.

Meanwhile, her left foot found the pair of footwear underneath her bed. Her right foot expertly drew the items from out of the narrow space. "Rogue?" she asked as she slipped them on.

"Nah," he hummed.

"Well," she muttered as she strolled away from her bedside to the bedroom's door. "It doesn't matter now. You're gonna meet him tonight anyway. Just…" She entered the hallway. "…don't act like an asshole towards him, D."

"Hmph!" her brother grunted. "I'll see what I can do."

"Dante," she groaned. It was a warning.

" _Nassy._ " Now, he was taunting her.

She kissed her teeth. The soles of her plushy and comfortable mules repetitively slapped against the polished wooden floorboards. The noises that were birthed from the actions echoed in the short hallway.

"Nassy, pick up your feet," her brother scolded. "I can hear you shuffling along, all the way from Dauntless village."

She rolled her eyes and snarled. "Promise me…" She approached the door to Lucien's nursery. "…that you will treat Luke's dad with…kindness, tonight." She widened the gap that was created by the door and the frame. She entered the toddler's bedroom and stood in the center of the room.

"Why should I treat the jerk that impregnated you and then abandoned you…?"

Her face grimaced. 'Is this what you think that Eric did to me?'

"…with kindness, Nassy? Is he even treating you better? And what about Luke? Is he even acting like a father towards my nephew?"

'More than you can imagine, D.' The pair of dark brown eyes focused on the special, tiny and sleeping form that was laying inside of the crib. "Yes, he has been there for Luke. Do you think he would've been able to show up to the party, if he wasn't handling his business?"

"I don't know, Nassy. For all I know, you could still be trying to convince him to stick around!"

She kissed her teeth and then turned away from her son's bed. She quietly made her exit from the nursery. She entered the hallway and then traveled to the living room. As she walked into the direction of the door's location, she said "Alright, I'm about to let your wife inside. No stores ain't open yet, so she and Nova will be hanging out here for a while."

"It's whatever. Just be here by—

"Yes-Yes, we will be there by four o'clock," she said in a snarky tone.

"Bye Nass—Oh yeah! Be nice to Trudy!" he instructed.

Nasira stopped walking and she stood in front of the sectional couch. " _What are you talking about?_ I am—

"What lie is about to come out of your mouth, Nassy?" teased Dante.

She rolled her eyes. "I am…" She shrugged her shoulders and slightly shook her head. "… _Polite_ … And civil towards your life-mate."

Dante snorted in disbelief. " _Yeah right!_ " he guffawed. "You're like a damn cold fish towards Trudy."

'Well… Damn.'

"And before you can deny it: Yes, you're like a damn fish towards her. You barely have a conversation with her. Whenever you visit our home, you always follow me around like you're a puppy. And… You were living in Amity for damn near almost a year and you barely visited our home," Dante pointed out.

"That's because you weren't home and I—

"A-HA!" shrieked Dante.

Nasira grimaced, when she realized her slip of the tongue. She had just proven to her brother that he was right about his assessment.

"You just said it yourself!" he told her.

She grunted out a "Shit!" and looked at the door. She huffed and muttered "You're…right…You, ass."

Dante chuckled. "So for today… Please be a _little more open and outgoing_ towards my… life-mate. She's a sweetheart… And she is slightly afraid of the possibility that you don't like her."

She huffed. "Fine," she growled.

"Good," he said warmly into his end.

She sensed that there was a smile on his face. "Now, don't you have someone to boss over?" she taunted.

"Like always," he told her. "Speaking of which, I have to wake up Trigger. It's time for his ass to get up." There was a gentle grunt from him. "So, get off this phone and go! Be nice to my…Uh…Trudy!"

"Okay," she grumbled. Nasira disconnected her end of the call. She glanced at the front door and then at the face of her cell phone. She read the time from off of the device. 'Eight thirty-six?! What-in the-hell am I doing up at eight o'clock in the morning?! Ugh, such bullshit.' She glimpsed at the door. She huffed. "Whatever," she mumbled.

Before she could approach the front door, her hearing picked up Trudy's cheerful voice from the other side of the door. The woman was putting her Amity traits on display by singing. Her melodic, bright voice was accompanied by her niece Nova's cheerful babbling. The toddler must've been providing background vocals, according to Nasira. The Dauntless woman cringed. Before she pulled the door opened, she made a quick prayer for sore throats and for a short shopping trip.

A blanket of bright, neon green was the first thing that caught Nasira's attention and it was covering her sister-in-law's shorter frame. The Amity woman filled up her doorstep with her decorative singing while wearing a neon green, wool pea coat and carrying her one year-old daughter. The woman was staring at her look-a-like daughter as she sang about a traveling school bus with too many passengers.

Nasira had taken a slow, deep breath and alerted herself about her brother's advice. 'Be nice, Nassy. She is a nice woman. She's slightly annoying, but she's nice… Mmm, maybe you are Dauntless after all.' She eyed the mother and daughter. "Morning," she greeted with a husky tone.

Trudy's attention turned away from her happy daughter and to her long-time boyfriend's sister. Her light brown eyes focused on the taller woman. "Good morning, Nasira!" she eagerly greeted. She glimpsed at her daughter. "Nova, can you say 'good morning' to your auntie?" she asked the toddler.

Nasira glanced down at the little girl and smiled. She believed that the baby looked even more adorable in her cute outfit. Her mother managed to dress her in a blue denim skirt, a pair of white leggings with pale pink hearts on them, a pair of pink socks and a pair of brown boots. She wore a thick and fluffy-looking, navy blue wool coat over her upper body. Her thick, black hair was styled in two afro puffs that were embellished with pink, yarn ribbons that were tied into bows. Nova's doe-shaped, hazel eyes focused on Nasira's face. A toothy smile developed on her lips. "Hi!" she chirped as she waved her right hand.

Nasira giggled and then waved her hand. "Hi, Nova!" she cheerfully greeted the toddler.

In reaction, the little girl covered her cherubic face with her tiny plump hands and she laughed.

"Aw, Nova!" giggled Trudy. The woman turned to Nasira. "She's shy sometimes! Getting her to say 'hello' can be daunting sometimes." She smiled. "Good morning, Nasira."

Nasira nodded her head. "Good morning, Trudy," she repeated. She stepped off to the side. Her left hand extended to the side. "Come in," she politely stated.

"Thank you," Trudy said softly, before stepping into the apartment. The woman walked a few feet into the apartment, before she allowed her daughter to walk. "Oh, it's so quiet in here," she remarked as she straighten her back.

Nasira rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Well…" she murmured as she pushed the door close. "…I was asleep, not too long ago."

Trudy glanced behind her, over her left shoulder. She eyed Nasira while carrying an expression of mild shame on her face. "Oh no," she gasped. "I'm so-so-so sorry, Nassy. I should've called you before I left or had Dante call you. I left early because I wanted…"

Seeing the expression on her pseudo, sister-in-law's face and hearing the genuine remorse in her tone, caused a strong sense of guilt to rise inside of Nasira. The guilt allowed a chill to stick to her skin and it was stronger than any draft that circulated in her apartment.

"…I left early because I wanted to beat the traffic. I know that a lot of people come down here, from the village, to go shopping here. I—

"Trudy…" Nasira held her right hand out, in front of her. "…it is okay," she blurted. Her hand dropped back to its resting place. She approached the woman. "It's okay," she reaffirmed. She placed a reaffirming hand on the woman's left shoulder. "You did the smart thing, which was leaving at an early hour, so you don't get stuck in traffic. It was the smart thing to do." She smiled at the shorter woman.

Trudy returned the smile. "Thank you for the compliment," she chirped. She turned away from Nasira while the other woman casually strolled away from her. She walked further into the apartment. Her eyes took in the adventurous landmarks that were the artworks in the living room. "Oh Nassy!" she gasped in awe as she stood under the large light fixture. She was staring up at the paper structure. "You have a very lovely home!"

"Lala-loo-loo-loo-lay-lala-loo-loo-lay-lay-lay…" Nova babbled in a melody.

Nasira focused on the toddler. She traveled around the sectional in a peculiar yet whimsical manner. Her boot-adorned feet performed trots, skips, marching steps and hops around the bright yellow couch. She continued to sing.

'Mom,' her brain reminded her. An image of her mother filled her mind. It was an image of a singing and dancing woman. 'She is like Mommy already and she ain't even two yet.'

"Nova, honey-baby…"

Nasira's eyes closed just as her heart began to race. She opened her eyes and focused on the little girl.

"…come over to me and look at something," instructed Trudy.

Nova's dancing came to a halt. She was standing in front of the couch's rear. She ran to the end of the couch and glanced at her mother.

Trudy waved over to her. "Come here Nova. I want to show you something."

The toddler ran over to her mother and joined her. She watched her mother point to the ceiling.

The action spurned snapshots of memory to pop up in Nasira's mind.

 _"_ _Look up, Nassy! You see that, honey-baby? That's a dinosaur… Yeah, a dinosaur! Ain't it pretty? No, it's not pretty? (Laughs)"_

Her mind's eye was flooded with a montage of images that contained the skeletal remains of a brontosaurus, vaulted mosaic ceilings, glass-covered cases and shiny tiled floors. Her nostrils picked up the familiar scent of the antiseptic-infused air that had circulated throughout the museum, on that day.

"You see, Nova?"

Nasira focused on the mother and daughter that stood a few feet away. Trudy was pointing in the direction of the light fixture. Nova mimicked her mother's action.

"Do you see it, Nova?" Trudy glanced at her daughter with a smile on her face. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Preeee-tee!" the little girl squealed as she glanced at her mother.

Trudy giggled while she nodded her head. "Yeah, it's pretty! Auntie Nassy has a pretty light."

Nova nodded her head and giggled. "Pree-tee," she repeated.

Nasira chuckled and provided a tight-lipped smile. Her attention was taken away from the duo, when she felt a tear drop kiss at her top lip. Her eyes drifted down to the island countertop. Her feet did a secret and quick trip to the kitchen area, where she slipped into the space between the counter and the sink. Her fingers frantically rubbed at her cheeks, wiping away the tears. She turned to the sink and opened the valves. The living room and the kitchen were filled with the familiar sounds of rushing water hitting against the metal basin. She stuck her hands under the stream. 'Alright, lady, you need to get it together. You can't have another one of these episodes while they are here,' her conscience reminded her. 'Today is supposed to be a happy day.' Her palms collected some lukewarm water and then introduced the small puddle to her face. She was introduced to more water, a few seconds later.

"You have a very lovely home, Nasira" she heard Trudy say.

With her eyes closed, she grabbed at the dish towel that she knew was being draped over the dish rack, a few inches away from her head. She quickly dried her face. "Thank you," she said softly as she placed the towel back on the rack. She turned to Trudy. "You can take your coats off and make yourself at home," she informed the woman.

"Oh, thank you," her sister-in-law chirped. The woman proceeded to strip out of her pea coat.

"None…" Nasira walked over to the counter. "…of the shops are open right now, so you might as well hang out a bit." She pointed to Nova. "I can turn on a cartoon movie for Nova."

Trudy nodded her head. "Thank you."

Nasira left the kitchen and traveled to the living room. She powered up the video-converter and proceeded to provide some entertainment for the little girl. Once the living room was filled with the sounds from a cartoon, she watched Nova run over to the sectional to watch the film. She looked towards Trudy. "Would you like some break…?"

"Do you want some help?"

"…fast?"

Both women allowed their inquiries to spill from their lips and float up into the air, simultaneously. Each multi-syllabic statement crashed into each other and its particles spilled an awkward energy on both mothers. Both smiling women observed each other.

Nasira was the one that broke the ice. "Would you…like to have some breakfast?" she queried. Her hand did a lazy wave behind her head, at the cupboards. "I know that you are a vegetarian." She shrugged her shoulders. "I have oatmeal," she offered.

The woman smiled and nodded her head. "I would love to have some. We left early, so we didn't get a chance to have breakfast. And besides, your brother had the entire kitchen covered with food, so I couldn't find some decent breakfast anyway." She glanced at her daughter as she strolled up to the island countertop. Once she approached the counter, she said, "Would you like some help?"

Nasira shook her head. "No, not really. I can handle it," she informed the woman. She walked over to the cupboards and she proceeded to fetch the small sack of oatmeal. She glanced over her right shoulder, at her sister-in-law. "Trudy?"

"Yes, Nasira?"

"If you want to help me, then you can make us some lunch," she told Trudy. She glared into the cupboard, at the contents. "I have a feeling that we won't have too much time to really sit down at a restaurant and have an actual lunch."

"Oh sure," the Amity woman chirped.

Seconds later, Nasira felt another presence inside of the small kitchen area.

"Okay, I need plastic lunch bins or plastic baggies or something else," the woman told Nasira.

"There's plastic lunch bins inside of the cupboard above the sink and a box of baggies in the drawer that is over there…" She pointed to the right side of the counter that kept the sink, at the small drawer. "You have free reign over the kitchen. If you want to make something, then go right ahead."

"Thank you."

Both women began to perform their tasks, in a comfortable silence. Nasira mainly stood in front of the stove, hovering over the pot that contained the stewing oatmeal. Trudy was the one that had full-reign of the kitchen. As they cooked, they were observe the toddler as she lounged in the living room. Every so often, they would occasionally hear juvenile laughter come from the couch.

After the oatmeal was finished brewing, Nasira looked towards Trudy. "I'm going to wake up the birthday boy," she notified the woman.

"Alright," hummed Trudy. "I'll fix everyone's bowls while you're gone."

"Thank you, Trudy."

The mom left the living room to go to Lucien's room. She quietly crept in the room and strolled up to the sleigh-styled crib. She lounged her arms on top of the railing and her eyes peered at the sleeping boy. "Lucien?" she softly sang. She watched his facial features twitch. She smiled. Her right set of fingers slipped into the crib and lightly touched his dampened curls. 'He sweats while sleeping like his father.' Her fingertips sifted through the thick coils. "Lucien, honey-baby, it's time to wake up… Birthday boy," she softly spoke. Her knuckles grazed his right cheek. "Come on baby boy, wake up." She heard his lips birth a soft grunt while her eyes picked up the sight of his twitching fists. Her fingertips traced the bridge of his nose. His head swayed and his right fist swung in front of his face, his efforts at fighting away the sensation. "Come on, baby, it's time to wake up." There was an adorable grimace on his face and a low whining noise from his mouth. "That's it," she said sweetly.

Lucien rolled onto his left side, facing towards the railing. He brought his fists to his face, where he rubbed his eyelids.

"Come on, baby," she murmured. She watched his chubby face grimace and then his eyelids peel back, revealing his dark gray orbs. She observed the process in which his awareness brightened up his eyes with alertness. "Good morning, my big boy!" she giggled. She watched his eyes focus on her. "Hi, my baby!"

A husky chuckle and a toothy smile grew from him. The toddler rolled onto his back and stared at his mother.

"Hi, my big boy!" she squealed.

Lucien giggled. He brought his fists closer to his chubby cheeks. "Mama!" he chirped.

Her spirit filled up with surprise. Her eyes widened and her lips parted to form an 'o'. She smiled. "Did you just say 'Mama'?" she asked him.

The toddler giggled. "Mama!" The toddler sat upright and lifted his arms in the air, a silent request for his mother to pick him up.

Nasira gladly complied for his request. She picked the boy up and held him in her arms. She was a recipient of a sloppy kiss from her baby. She had taken a few steps away from the crib. "Do you want to get down and walk? Or do you…?" She received her answer, when he tightened his grip around her neck and waist. "Oh, okay… 'Holding onto your Mama', it is!" She kissed the boy's plump cheeks. He giggled. "I can't believe that my baby boy is turning one tomorrow! We're going to a party tonight for you and for your nana!" She received a babbled response. "Yeah, a party!" she told him as she walked towards the bedroom's entrance.

* * *

After an hour and a half of restrained and polite conversation between the two women over an oatmeal breakfast, it was time for Nasira to prepare for her shopping trip, as well as, her one-night stay at her childhood home. She packed an overnight bag for herself and her son. Then she quickly dressed her son and herself, before they joined up with Trudy and her daughter. They left the apartment, a little before eleven o'clock. For their mode of transportation, Trudy managed to borrow her husband's truck. With the help from the global positioning system that was built in the truck, they were led to the territory's retail district.

"I want to buy an outfit that will make me look like a respectable Dauntless woman," reasoned Trudy, thirty minutes after their arrival. She was walking alongside Nasira, on populated street while she pushed Nova in her stroller.

Nasira released a booming cackle, in response. Her eyes caught the sight of Lucien leaning forward while he rode in his own stroller. He peered over the edge of his carriage, in order to stare at his mother. A chuckle fell from his full lips. It made her laugh longer.

"What?" Trudy said, sounding genuinely confused.

Nasira stopped laughing long enough to answer. "Us, Dauntless women…" Her voice died in her throat. Her heart began to race. This was the first time she had ever referred to herself as a Dauntless member. She pressed on. "We don't consider ourselves to be…" Her voice took on an over-exaggerated haughty tone. "… _respect-seeking ladies_!" She listened to the laughter from the children. Nasira dropped the act. "Dauntless women are not trying to seek anybody's respect. I know this much."

Trudy eyed her sister-in-law. "What's wrong with being respectable?"

Nasira shook her head. "There's nothing wrong with being respectful. I just think that people confuses 'being respectful' with the act of being accepted by others. Now…" Her pointer finger jabbed the air. "…I don't think there's anything wrong with it! I do think everyone should try to obtain a decent level of civility and politeness that comes along with giving respect. Especially…" Her right hand did a casual sweep over to a small group of teenagers, who were thirty feet away.

The Dauntless teens appeared to be younger than sixteen years of age and they were using a rusted memorial sculpture as a jungle gym. The structure was built on the land as an ode to the men, women and children that lost their lives during the Great War.

"…these young knuckle-heads!" She looked away from the teens and stared straight ahead. "In my opinion, when it comes to earning someone's respect, I don't think too many people truly have it."

"Mmm," Trudy hummed, sounding contemplative. "Sooo, if not respectable, then how should I dress for tonight?" she asked with a bit of a tease in her voice.

Nasira gave her a side-eye glimpse just as her left eyebrow did a deep tilt. The smirk on her lips held the same level of mischief. "In an outfit that won't make my mother lose her shit, but makes my brother want to rip your clothes off." There was a horrified squeak, which made Nasira laugh.

The two mothers and their babies continued on with their tasks. They visited several shops that catered to the faction's women. After making visits to several boutiques and perusing their inventory, both women were gradually coming to the conclusion that Trudy wouldn't find a suitable outfit for the night. As they walked the sidewalks, both the cement and the cobble-stoned, Nasira spotted several occurrences in which fellow faction members would glare at her sister-in-law. The woman's bright green apparel and her daughter's festive colored clothes stuck out in a sea of black. She was well-aware that it had nothing to do with Trudy's physical beauty. Those glares were filled with distaste and unsubstantiated claims of scorn. Her fingers traced the edge of her jeans' back pocket, reminding herself that her retractable blade was stored there. If someone wanted to become aggressive, then she would show them just how aggressive _she_ could be. Nasira was well-aware of her poor fighting skills, but she was also well-aware of her proficient and keen skills with a knife. Her father, Goliath the First, made sure of that, when she was younger.

"Oooh, let's try this place, Nasira!" Trudy excitedly announced.

Nasira noticed that the woman was pointing to the store-front of another clothing boutique, which was several feet away. She eyed the building's façade. The business was attached to one of the oldest buildings in the city, one that managed to survive during the war. The front was decorated with black-painted columns and a large glass window that held the words "Dauntless Lady Couture" in gold, hand-painted letters. A row of eight mannequins was standing in front of the window. Nasira observed the fashion that covered each mannequin and came to the conclusion that these clothes could've been described as "Old ladies' clothes". It was the types of fashion that the young Dauntless members wouldn't be caught wearing in public. It was too modest with their long sleeves, high collars and loose fittings.

"Couture?! So the clothes must…" Trudy glanced at Nasira. "…be really nice, huh?!" She looked at the storefront again. "Right?!" the Amity woman queried.

A soft grimace kissed at Nasira's face. She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess…" she sighed. She extended her right hand in front of her. "…Lead the way, madam."

Trudy giggled. She pushed the stroller into the shop. Nasira trailed behind. Both women were greeted with a wave of calm and the smell of fragrant oil, as soon as they stepped into the building.

"Calming oil," Trudy informed her, in a hushed tone. "It's the only thing that is used in Amity, which was created by the faction. It comes in the form of incense sticks or in an oil form. Calming oil is mostly used by shopkeepers and by doctors. The doctors put it in their patients' waiting rooms to keep their patients' anxiety down. The shopkeepers use it to keep their customers calm. They believe that with calm customers, they make better choices."

"Oh," Nasira quietly mewled.

They traveled deeper into the store and were drawn to the center of the shopping parlor, where it was free from racks of clothes. Before they could branch out and browse the inventory of outfits, the women were approached by a female shop employee. Nasira observed the woman. The employee was an older woman with a shorter and plumper yet visually-appealing build. Her fair skin held a healthy tan, which made her platinum blonde hair shine brighter. Like every other Dauntless member, she wore all-black apparel with her off-the-shoulder sweater, her sateen pedal pushers and her patent leather ballet flats. On the collar of her sweater, she wore a colorful brooch that was a bejeweled parakeet. She kept her hair in a messy bun that was held together with a pencil.

The woman approached with a toothy, warm smile on her lips. "Good morning, welcome to the Dauntless Lady Couture!" she cheerily greeted. Her plump and small, left hand touched at the collar of her sweater. "My name is Trixie Martindale and I am the owner of this establishment!"

Nasira grinned at the woman and gave a head nod. "Good morning, Miss Martindale."

Trudy gave the woman a cheerful greeting. "Hello, ma'am!" The mother stepped in the space that was in between the strollers and she approached the shop's owner. Her right hand extended in front of her, in the direction of Trixie. It was a silent request for a handshake. "My name is Trudy and…" Her hand was enveloped by the older woman's hand. "...and this is my sister-in-law, Nasira—

"Nasira?" The shop owner eyed the quiet, taller woman.

"Yes, ma'am," Nasira said softly. "That's me."

The woman released Trudy's hand and then she had taken a few steps into Nasira's direction. A luster covered her eyes while a small smile managed to hitch itself on her thin lips. The older woman's brown eyes surveyed every feature that was covering Nasira's body and the young faction member found it to be unnerving.

Trixie pointed to herself with her left hand. "You don't remember me, do you?" she said to the young woman. After Nasira shook her head, the shopkeeper said, "Honey, I am one of your mother's friends. We grew up together."

Nasira's brow had frowned up as she eyed the woman. 'Why don't I remember you?'

The shop owner answered Nasira's silent inquiry. "Judging by the look on your face, honey, you're trying to figure out why you can't remember me…" She made another pair of steps in Nasira's direction. "…In my opinion and even though I am not a 'head doctor', but I am going to say it anyway. I think you can't remember me because of your injuries from your accident…"

The mere mention of the car accident that had taken Nasira's mind on a tour down 'memory lane'. Her brain unleashed a montage of memories that began at the moment of the accident, down to the memory of her as she sat in a hospital bed, staring at her reflection from a handheld mirror. She remembered the moment of waking up inside of the mangled truck. She recalled the moment her blood-shot eyes took in the bright, ceiling light that was attached to the roof of the ambulance. The memory of seeing the thick stitched-up wound that covered her scalp. The feeling of shocked and then the feeling of sadness, when she realized that her waist-length hair was gone. Then, the sensation of shame, for thinking about something that was so trivial.

"…and plus…"

She was yanked out of her head, by the sound of Trixie's voice.

"…I haven't been around you younger kids, for such a long time. Dante, Trigger, Little Goliath and Samson remembers me because I was always around. But with you younger babies, I've been busy. I…" Trixie's right hand shot up in the air and did a short sweep of the showroom floor. "…have been busting my fat ass, in here and making this thing work out. Plus, I've been taking care of _my own kids_ and looking after my parents. So I can understand why you can't remember me."

'Ah, understandable,' her brain agreed.

"Speaking of my own kids…" The woman glanced over her right shoulder, at the rear of the shop and at the cash registers. "…Mitch!"

Both Trudy and Nasira stared over at the five-foot tall counter that held the four cash registers. Both women spotted the large, male body that was taking up space in the corner. Two pairs of eyes widened with surprise as they took in the large form as he sat on a bar stool. He was tall and he carried a thick, bulky frame. He was still in that stage where his body held onto the 'baby fat' instead of muscle. Nasira did a quick, amateur assessment and assumed that the kid was, at minimum, six feet-four inches tall. His attention was aimed towards a handheld, video game console that his massive paws held onto.

"…Mitch! Mitch!"

The boy peeled his attention away from the video game's screen. His pair of hooded, blue eyes peered at the trio of women that stood twenty feet away from him. His annoyance was clearly showing on his face.

"Mitch!" his mother eagerly squealed as she waved her right hand in the air. Once she noticed the boy's attention, she pointed over to Nasira and Trudy. "Mitch, say 'Hi' to Nassy and Trudy! These are your Auntie Davina's kids!" she informed her son.

The boy clearly sighed and shook his head. His right hand rose into the air and performed a quick wave. His hand fell down and attached itself to the video game again. His attention turned back to the game.

Both Trudy and Nasira chuckled.

Trixie turned to the women. "That's my Mitch!" she stated as she dropped her hand down to her side. "He's the youngest out of my seven babies, which means that I will have to go through the motions of that damn Choosing Ceremony again. Thank goodness that I don't have to deal with this until four years from now…"

Nasira's eyes widened with shock. ' _He's twelve?!_ ' She glimpsed at Mitch again and she assessed the child. 'That… Big ass person… _Is twelve_?!' Her eyes glanced at Trixie. The plump woman was bent at her waist. She was eyeing the children as they sat in their strollers.

"…and it look like you have made your own 'Mitch' here!" She briefly glimpsed at Nasira before returning her attention to Lucien. She smiled at the toddler. Her right hand reached out and grabbed onto the hem of his right, pants' leg. She gave his chunky leg a little wiggle. "Hi, Luke! Hi, Lukie!" she squealed cheerfully. "Hi, big boy!" There were husky chuckles coming from the boy's stroller. Trixie glanced at his mother again. "He's going to be one handsome fella, when he gets to be older. All of these girls are going to be flocking to him!"

"Ugh, please, don't remind me," Nasira muttered with a thin smile on her lips.

Trixie giggled. Then she turned her attention to Lucien's companion for the day. Her brown eyes focused on the little girl that was sitting in the bright pink, gingham-printed carriage. "Oooh…" she swooned. Both toddlers giggled. "…Would you look at this little beauty?!" The woman gave Nova a gentle nudge on her chin. The little girl giggled. "Elle est aussi un bel enfant!" Trixie announced in French. The child continued to giggle. "Regardez ce beau sourire!" The woman stared at Trudy. "She makes me want to have some more babies!"

Trudy giggled. "Thank you!" She glanced down at the stroller. "This is my daughter, No—

"Nova. Yes, I know, honey," Trixie informed her. She glanced at the little girl. "Since the day that you told…" Her head nodded towards Nasira. "…her mother that you were pregnant, I have been getting progress reports about this precious baby every day!" She played with Nova's left boot. "And if it wasn't your mother that was calling me…" She stood upright and then stared at Trudy. "…Then it was your husband that was calling me."

Trudy unleashed a squeak. "Dante would call you?"

The older woman nodded her head. "Yup. Dante is my godson…"

'Well, whatta ya know. I'm learning something new every second.'

"…When he was born, I was there." Trixie looked at Nasira. "Your father was out in Amity, inspecting the wall, when your brother decided to make his appearance into the world. She gave birth…" The woman pointed to the wall that was in her left. "…in the stairwell that is attach to this building. Your mother…" The woman laughed. "That woman can be stubborn as a mule." She stared at Nasira. "I'm sure that you know this." She sighed. "Rather than driving herself to the clinic, which was something that she was _supposed_ to do, she came to my place. I called your father and I couldn't get a reception. So, I decided to take her to the clinic myself. As we were going down the stairs, she collapsed on the stairs. She couldn't walk any further. And she gave birth right there."

"Wow," Trudy muttered in surprise.

Trixie nodded her head as she stared at Trudy. "Wow, indeed." The woman put her hands on her ample hips. "I am also Trigger, Samson and Goliath's godmother." She glanced at Nasira. "And your mother is the godmother to all of my children."

Nasira felt a thick wave of heat, which made her feel cozy. She smiled at the woman, who returned one.

"So, let me guess: You, ladies, are here because of Davina's party, am I right?" the shopkeeper simply stated. Both women nodded their heads. "So, who is buying—?

"Just me," Trudy stated with her right hand raised.

"Okay, so…" The woman clapped her hands a few times. "…Let's get started."

So, the task of finding Trudy an outfit began. Trixie and Trudy began touring the showroom. Nasira was given the task of taking care of the children during their process. As she watched after Lucien and Nova, she occasionally observed the two women. Based off of the woman's body language, Nasira could tell that her mother's friend was being kind and warm towards the Amity woman. The exuberant boutique owner pulled certain outfits off of racks and gave them to Trudy to hold. Then once Trudy held enough clothes in her arms, she was sent off to a dressing room, to try on the outfits. So far, the duo didn't find the outfit.

"Alright, missy" Trixie announced, close to two hours later. She stood in front of a dressing room's entrance, in front of the French door. There was black fabric draped over her forearms. "I have another dress for you!" She draped the fabric over the top of the door. "I received a shipment of this dress yesterday. It is by a designer that lives in Amity—

"Oh really?!" chirped Trudy from the other side of the door.

"Yeah. Try this one on, I think this one will fit you!"

"Okay! Thank you, Miss Trixie!"

"You're welcome, sweetie!" the woman announced before walking away from the door. The woman walked across the showroom to the other side of the room, where Nasira sat with the kids and Mitch. Trixie's face lit up with a smile, when she spotted the children. Her eyes flickered over to Nasira. "How have you been, sweetheart?" she sighed before taking a seat on the chaise lounge, next to the younger Dauntless woman.

"I'm doing okay. I'm just a little tired," Nasira answered as she eyed the bag of crackers that she held in her left hand.

"That's good. But I wasn't referring to _that_ , honey," the woman reported.

Nasira glanced at the woman and found the shopkeeper staring at her.

"I was referring to how you are feeling, in regards to your mom's… _health_ ," Trixie clarified.

'Oh,' she silently whimpered. She looked away. Her eyes glanced at the chubby cheeked toddlers as they snacked on their crackers. She was about to mentally delve back into that stream of subconscious, when she heard 'Think of happier times' sang into her mind. She sighed, in efforts of chasing away the negative vibes. "I'm…" She grimly grinned. "…scared…sometimes. Since she's told me, I've found myself…" She glanced at the vibrant decorations that hung above the dressing rooms' doors. "…remembering things about her. I've been thinking about memories and stuff…" She glanced down at her hands. "…Then I remember that she is going to… Die," she confessed.

Trixie inhaled and deeply exhaled. She clucked her teeth. "You feel it too, huh?" the older woman announced.

Nasira nodded. "My brothers tell me that I need to be positive, ever since she's taking the chemo. But I know that it's pointless. So I…" She glimpsed at the woman. "…keep these thoughts to myself."

"You shouldn't have to, baby," the woman told her.

"I know," she muttered.

"So, if you need someone to talk to, about this stuff, then my doors are always open for you," Trixie reported. "My store hours are posted on the door and I live above this shop."

Nasira smiled. "You do?"

Trixie's face beamed. "Yeah!" she chuckled. "I do." Her right index finger performed a dance in the air. "In fact, I own this building."

"Really?"

"Yeah… And I got it for a real, dirt-cheap price too! The realtor that sold me this place told me that it was a waste of spending. He told me that this building was an old building that was probably infested with asbestos and vermin. Then he tried to sell me on the idea of renting a shop in The Pit. I told him, 'I know what I want and I want _this building!_ ' He chuckled at me, as if he thought that I was a fool."

"So, how long have you been here?" Nasira asked.

Trixie became comfortable on the lounge chair. She turned her back to the arm of the chair and pressed her left side into the back of the chair. She propped her left arm onto the lounge chair's back. Her right hand rested on her lap. She eyed the only daughter of her best friend. A faint smile grew on her face. "I've owned this building for the past twenty-three years and I've been in business for the past twenty years," she informed her.

Nasira smiled broadly. Her high level of marvel was written on her face.

"And it's not bad for a girl that was constantly told that she wasn't going to amount to anything," the older woman stated. She glanced at her lap and then at Nasira.

"Why? I mean, why would anyone say something like that to you?" Nasira asked.

"Because…" She sighed. "I wasn't born with the right pedigree, unlike your parents. My parents were from the lowest of the low-class, here in Dauntless. My father was a brawler. It was the only thing that he was good at, besides drinking and partying. The only jobs that he could keep were the bouncing gigs at the numerous Dauntless clubs and the pubs. My mother, on the other hand, was only good at partying. This was how they met. In laymen's terms, she was a meat-trap…"

Nasira slowly nodded her head. 'Aa…Ohhh,' her brain hummed.

"…I was definitely a street kid, growing up. I could've told you how to get to 'Point B' from 'Point A' by bus and which factionless person was killed. I carried a small switchblade. I cussed worse than any old Dauntless vet and I used to steal from the shops in The Pit. I knew every tattoo artist in the Corners and in The Pit as well. I knew all of this stuff, but my bad ass couldn't count and add worth a damn!" Trixie chuckled. "I was such a terrible student, when I was in school. This is why I was told that I wouldn't amount to anything. I was…" She scoffed. "I was such a demon, back in those days."

"So, how did you meet my mother?" Nasira asked.

"Well… I've known your mother since we were school mates. Actually, I've known your father _first_ …"

The young woman's eyebrows rose with mild surprise. "You knew my father, back then?"

Trixie nodded her head. "Yeah, he was one of my best friends, at the time. We were both popular. He was popular for the right reasons while I was popular for the _wrong ones_." She giggled. "He introduced me to your mother, back when I was in the fifth grade. I didn't know that he introduced me to another _twin spirit_."

"A… _twin spirit_? What's…? What's that?" queried Nasira.

"It's some New Age lingo that is used mostly in Amity. It means…" Her face had taken on a mask of contemplation. Her brow slightly wrinkled while her eyes developed a cloudy tone. "…It means…" Her eyes became alert. "…You know how you meet a person. This person could be a man or another woman. And you connect with them, really quickly and really well?"

Nasira nodded her head. In her mind, she thought about her interactions with Sophie and then the moment in Club Inferno's bathroom with Hexa. "Yeah, I've had those encounters."

"Well, those are _'_ _twin spirits'_ ," she informed her. "Anyway, your dad introduced me to your mother and to our friend, Lysander."

"Lysander Mott?" she said to the older woman.

The woman nodded her head. "Yeah, Lysander was the other one. We all were very close during our elementary and junior high school years. They even remained friends with me, when I became a social pariah amongst our classmates."

Nasira's brow wrinkled. "A… _Social pariah_?"

"Yeah, around the age of eleven, I began to hang out with a few more people. They weren't the most… _Productive_ members of Dauntless society. They were older… And cuter. Plus, they had the best drugs and alcohol as well. I was at the point, where I just... _Gave up_. I gave up on trying to beat the odds that I was given. I felt like…If people thought that I wasn't going to amount to anything, then I was going to prove them right. I was going to show them just how much of a demon that I could be." She sighed. "Your parents _hated_ my friends while Lysander kept his distain to himself. Then I became pregnant with my oldest child—

"Wait," Nasira blurted out as she sat upright. "You just said that you were eleven, when you started to hang out with them, right?" Once the woman nodded her head, she then asked, "How old were you, when you became pregnant?"

"Twelve," she simply stated.

'Oh… My God,' her brain breathed. "How…?" she breathed, with her shock still in her voice. "How were you able to take care of yourself and your baby, at that age?"

"My mom… _Unfortunately_ … And plenty of hand-outs from the Abnegation food pantry," Trixie explained. "And due to the fact that I became pregnant before my sixteenth birthday, I had no choice in the matter of choosing another faction. I had to stay in Dauntless."

"If you had to pick another faction, which—

"One would I choose?" the older woman asked. After the younger woman nodded her head, Trixie answered, "I would've chosen Amity. I'm sure that I could've raised some hell there, when I wasn't picking crops and singing". Both women laughed.

A moment later, the two Dauntless women fell quiet. In the meantime, Nasira tended to the needs of the toddlers as they sat in their carriages. "Trixie?" she said after a while had floated by.

"Yeah, honey?"

"How were my parents like, when they—?

"Were kids?" the older woman stated. After Nasira nodded, she further explained. "Like two passing ships in the night. I mean…" She rolled her eyes and huffed. "It was very obvious that those two liked each other since we were kids. Since they were children and all the way up to their teen years. Your mother was scrappy and defiant, which your father found appealing. Your mother loved your father's protective nature and intimidating demeanor—

"Ah…Um… Trixie, please don't…" Nasira lightly pleaded as she shook her head. "…I don't want to hear about their potential… Sexual… Fetishes," she told the woman.

The shop owner cackled. She playfully slapped at Nasira's right shoulder. "No, I don't mean in that way, Nassy!" she giggled. "When it comes to your parents as children, they were…wonderful. Your dad, as a little boy, was very…" She smiled. "…He was like a character from the movies. He was a very beautiful human being. He was handsome. When it came to him revealing himself, he only had done that with a selected few. To everybody else, he gave off the illusion that he was the _'_ _perfect, Dauntless soldier'_. He carried himself like a gentleman, he followed orders like a soldier and he was protective of people like he was a leader," Trixie explained. She sighed deeply. Her fingertips danced across the back of the elaborate chair. "Your dad could've been the supreme commanding officer, if he wanted to be." She smiled glumly. "I'm sure that was your grandfather's plan the whole time."

A subtle grimace appeared on Nasira's face. "Was my grandfather an asshole?"

"Ta-Tuh!" was the noise that came from Trixie's lips. She released a sarcastic giggle. "I wouldn't call your grandpa 'an asshole'. It was more like he was a stereotypical 'Dauntless Dad'," she clarified.

The grimace deepened on the young woman's face. "Oh," she groaned.

"Your grandfather was very harsh and a hard-ass towards your father and your uncles. He wanted all of his sons to be perfect Dauntless soldiers. He wanted all of them to be in high-respectable positions, here in the faction. He tried to groom them into being the best. In the process, he wasn't a nurturing man towards your dad and to his brothers." She had fallen silent for a few seconds before resuming. "It's sad that it had to take your Uncle January's death for the old man to remember his true reason for being a parent."

The mentioning of her late uncle caused the memory of the man's photographed image to pop up in her head. A young and handsome fellow that possessed flawless brown skin and a valiant jawline. He wore a pair of vibrant brown eyes and a lop-sided yet debonair smile. January Grant was one of her father's eldest brothers, the second boy out of the six boys that were given to the Grant couple. He was also one victim out of the forty-seven Dauntless soldiers that perished, after they invaded the subterranean territory that was called 'The Badlands'. This mission, which was referred as 'Operation: Phoenix' was the same incident that birthed "The Freedom Nine", the nine faction members that fought their ways into freedom after being held in captivity for eight days. Her father was one of those freed soldiers.

Once her father was rescued and then released from his three-week observation, he never spoke of his time in the Badlands. Not to any of his brothers or to any other relative, including Nasira's mother. Growing up, Nasira only heard January's name spoken in terse whispers and in murmurs. His name was never mentioned by her intermediate family members, especially around her father.

Nasira glanced at Trixie. "Did you ever meet my other grandfather before he passed, my grandfather Percival?"

"Yes, I've met… _Him_." Her ruby-colored lips pursed. Her sense of distaste was made evident. "Now, he was a true-blue, _asshole_!" she declared. She glared out into the showroom. "He was an asshole towards your mother and to her family. He was also a monster towards them, as well. I remember him showing up to our school and embarrassing your mother, in front of the entire school. Looking back at it, your grandfather had his issues." She rubbed the top of her left thigh and she audibly exhaled. She glanced at Nasira. "He was a fish-head, well, he _used to be_ a fish-head before he fucked it all up and lost his fish farming business. Your grandfather managed to lose a business that was in your family for over one-hundred years. Failure is something that not everybody can get over. It makes people _mean_."

The dialogue between the women came to a halt. The only sounds that were swimming through the spacious showroom were the steady stream of babbling between the kids and the colorful noises from Mitch's video game. It was comforting for the young mother.

Nasira eyed the other woman. "I wonder why I don't remember you. I can remember plenty of stuff that happened before the accident, but I don't remember _you_."

Trixie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know why either. Like I said before, I was present during your brothers' childhoods than yours. By the time you were born, my mom had taken ill and was on bedrest and slowly dying from cirrhosis. My father was going through his own struggles too. So, I had spent most of my time taking care of the both of them, as well as, my own kids."

There was more silence.

"Mama!"

Both women's lines of sight settled on the young boy that was strapped in his stroller. Lucien was relaxed and reclining in his seat, with his sneaker-clad feet resting on the serving tray. A smile graced his pouty lips and his eyes dazzled with recognition of his mother. Nasira smiled at her son and felt a warmth coat her cheeks. She quietly was in awe of the fact that her baby boy looked like his father, especially with his new haircut. The sides and the back of his head was devoid of hair. There was a suitable amount of curls on the top of his head, but they were trimmed close to his scalp. Her brother Rogue performed the task of shearing her boy's hair, which was his first haircut. He had shown up to her apartment with an electric pair of barber shears, a small plastic cape and a stack of thick phone books. The youngest Grant child claimed that it was time for his nephew's first haircut. Then he added that the toddler needed to look 'dapper' for his first birthday celebration. An hour managed to pass by the time Rogue was finished cutting his nephew's hair. By then, Nasira's kitchen floor was coated with discarded tawny curls, which she frantically scooped up and the walls were covered with the cries of a petrified toddler, who was afraid of the electric barber shears.

"All that boy needs is those…" Trixie pointed to the space that was above her right eyebrow with her right index and middle fingers. "… _things_ and he would be his daddy," she softly pointed out. The older woman laughed, when she spotted the shocked expression on Nasira's face. "What?!" she chuckled. "Why are you surprise that I know about this?! I've told you that your mama is my best friend!" She chuckled some more. She took in a deep breath to calm herself. "The day that _you told her_ that you were pregnant was the _same day_ that she told me!" She stared straight ahead. "Your mama came into this shop, when I was about to close and she shouted out, 'Trixie, that boy had done knocked up my daughter!' And she was—

"Upset?" said Nasira with a deep crease in the middle of her eyebrows. She was slightly afraid of the possibility that her mother wasn't pleased about the pregnancy.

"Oh heavens no!" her mother's best friend answered. "She was _excited_! It was something that she _really-really-really-really-really-really_ wanted for you. She wants you to give her some grand-babies. I'm sure that she hoped for them a little later, down the line. But she was still happy and excited for you." Trixie giggled. "I think that your mother is one of the handful of people, here in Dauntless that actually loves having a family. Most people…" Her fingertips touched at her collarbone. "… _myself included_ , didn't believe in the 'husband-wife deal that came with the three kids, the house and the minivan'. I used to believe that we were the faction that belonged to the warriors, where we lived bravely and die young. I didn't know it, then."

"You didn't know, _what_?"

Trixie turned away from the sight of the dressing rooms and she stared at Nasira. "I didn't know that that was the whole goal for us, Dauntless folks. It was for us to gain reminders of _why_ we're Dauntless. We are supposed to grow older, meet people and eventually fall in love and then start a family. Those things are supposed to be our reminders of why we are trained to protect the city."

'Oh.'

"I didn't realized that until I was pregnant with my third child, unfortunately."

Nasira gave her a look of bewilderment.

"Unlike with most moms, my first two kids didn't serve as inspiration for me to change my ways. I became wilder," she explained.

"How wild?" Nasira asked.

" _Wild_ ," the shopkeeper simply stated. "I was doing drugs, drinking and having the stupid kind of sex with men… _And women_. All the while, I left my oldest two kids with my neighbors or my grandmother."

" _The stupid kind of sex?_ " queried Nasira with a tilt of her left eyebrow.

"Unprotected and without birth control," the older woman stated. "And it led to me having two more kids and an inventory of diseases."

Nasira's face slightly frowned up and she eyed the floor. 'Too…Much…Information.'

"And your parents were pissed at me, especially your father."

"I think that I can understand why," uttered Nasira.

"He thought that I was wasting my potential. He was one of the few people—Actually no, your father was the _only person_ who told me that I had potential and _I believed_ him. Plus, he was the only guy that I knew who…" Her hands rose in front of her chest and hung there. "…was like a father-slash-brother figure for me. He wasn't like the other guys, who didn't chase after me or lied, in order to get inside of my pants. He and your mother helped me understand how a couple works. At least I had a blueprint." She glimpsed at her son, who still sat in the corner. Then she returned her focus to the young mother. "By the time that I met Mitch's father, I knew that I was worthy enough for a relationship and to be in love."

"OKAY! I'M…"

Both women eyed the door that led to the changing room in which Trudy was stored inside.

"…READY TO COME OUT!" announced Trudy.

Nasira could sense the Amity woman's apprehension in her happy-infused tone. It just made the young Dauntless woman desire to see the outfit.

"Well, come on out, sweetheart!" cajoled Trixie as she stared at the white, French door.

The sound of a lock unfastening entered the showroom. Nasira became a spectator. She watched a brown hand grab on the top of the door and then push. The door slowly swung open to reveal the beautiful, Amity woman who looked like a sophisticated, Dauntless woman. But she came out of the room wearing the attitude of an insecure woman. She came spilling out of the dressing room with demure, small steps. Her hands were folded in front of her. Her eyes kept peering at the floor that lain at her feet.

"Oh honey, why are you coming out here, acting so shy?" Trixie questioned as she eyed the woman.

Trudy eyed the shop owner. "I don't… I don't know about this one," she said softly. She walked to the center of the parlor and she stood in front of the mirrors. "I've never…" Her fingers touched at the plunging, V-neck neckline of the dress. "…wore this kind of clothes before," she confessed.

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Trixie told her before she stood up. She strolled over to the woman and stood next to her. "Honey, you look beautiful, gorgeous, sexy and everything in between, with this gown on!" She stood behind the mom. Her fingers primped and prodded at the fabric. "I just have to take in some parts of the dress, so it will fit better. It won't take long because I'll use my Reddi-Tailor."

Trudy glanced down at her chest. "Are you sure that my… _Girls_ won't be on display? Dante wouldn't—

" _Noooo! Of course not!_ Before you leave here, I will be giving you some double-sided tape to go along with the dress. You'll put it on and it will keep your parts covered." Trixie continued to pinch at the dress and observe. "Nassy! You've been silent over there! Tell Trudy what you think about the dress." She held onto Trudy's small waist and guided the woman to stand before her.

Nasira quietly observed Trudy in the floor-length, black gown. The dress held long sleeves whose hemlines touched the backs of Trudy's hands. The material was soft-looking and it glared in the fluorescent lighting. The neckline was a deep, "V-neck" that highlighted the inner soft curves of her breasts. 'It's definitely a dress that makes her look Dauntless.'

"Well… What do you think?" Trixie queried.

Both women gave Nasira an expectant look. "Well," she deeply sighed and she leaned into the back of the chaise lounge. "You did fulfill your goal, when it comes to this dress…"

There was a look of immense relief written on the Amity woman's face.

"…You'll definitely am going to have some trouble tonight. I'm sure that my brother won't keep his hands to himself."

* * *

"Your brother is going to be mad at me for spending all of that money on the dress and on the shoes," bemoaned Trudy.

Nasira grimaced before taking a sip of her beverage. "Just remind that cheapskate about how you look in that dress. He'll forget it."

Trudy giggled. Then she scanned the plaza's vicinity. "It's such a nice day," she commented as she surveyed.

"Yeah…" Nasira hummed. She eyed Lucien as he chewed on a piece of bread. "…hopefully this weather will keep up for tonight. But we do have heaters for the tents, if the temperature drops."

The women resumed eating their lunches.

"Dauntless is not what I thought it would be," confessed Trudy, after a moment of silence.

"Mmm?" hummed Nasira as she chewed.

"I thought it was going to be a place with loud noises, dirty and polluted air and angry people with their snarling faces," she told her sister-in-law.

" _It is_ a place filled with dirty-ass smog, angry people and loud noises," Nasira told her.

Trudy giggled. She broke off a piece of her sandwich and handed it to her daughter. "I think you know what I've meant," she chuckled.

"I do," Nasira gently stated.

"Mama!" Lucien squealed.

Nasira peeked at her son. "Yes, big boy?" she cheerfully told him. His left pointer finger was aimed at the sandwich in her hands. "Oh, okay," she murmured. Her fingers took apart her meal and she handed her son two slabs of bread. She observed the boy as he chewed on his meal.

"When you were pregnant, were you ever afraid?" inquired Trudy. "I mean… When you found out about your pregnancy, were you afraid?"

The young, Dauntless woman looked towards Trudy. She noticed the sense of mild nervousness in the woman's hazel eyes. Nasira considered the question to be odd, but she answered anyway. "I was too shocked at first, to be honest with you," she confessed. "The fears didn't kick in until I left my doctor's office. Once I made my decision about keeping Luke, the fear did disappear. But I did feel anxiety about certain things, during my pregnancy."

Trudy audibly exhaled before taking a bite of her sandwich. "I was afraid during my _whole_ pregnancy," she confessed.

Nasira glimpsed at her son before returning her vision to her companion. "Why?" she asked with a deep crease in her brow.

The Amity woman sighed. "I had just turned forty years old and I was at the point, where I believed that I wouldn't become a mother. Then, there was the fact that my unborn child's father was a member of another faction and it was the faction that was our complete opposite. Plus, Dante cannot legally claim Nova as his daughter. We can't get married. We can't even legally live together. Thank goodness for Johanna and her capability of minding her business, when it came to my relationship with your brother because I'm sure that we would've been in trouble by now. Then there was the stuff that my OB-GYN was telling me about my daughter possibly being born with Down's Syndrome…"

'What? Why on earth would a doctor tell his patient that information?!'

Trudy answered her sister-in-law's silent inquiry. "Down's Syndrome tends to affect babies who are born to women that are older. He told me as a precaution."

"Oh, okay."

"Then there was the fact that I was afraid of your brother's potential reaction. I didn't know whether or not if he was going to accept Nova or not," confessed Trudy.

Nasira understood Trudy's fears. She held similar fears, when it came to her child's health and the impending case of parenthood. Her eyes focused on Nova, her niece. The child happily munched on her meal. "What happened to my brother, when you told him? What was his reaction to the news?"

Her sister-in-law giggled and then she smiled. "He had gone _real_ quiet while his eyes had gone big. His lips began to flap like a fish that was taken out of the water. Once he started to speak, he began to _stutter_ …" Her voice trailed off and she began to giggle. Her right hand touched at her chest. "I can laugh about it now, but back then, I was so pissed off!" She giggled some more.

Nasira laughed. It was hard to imagine the concept of her oldest brother being flustered by any type of circumstance. But, she did believe in Trudy's testimony.

"I thought he was going to drop dead on the spot," Trudy added.

Nasira cackled.

"I was about to tell him off, when he told me that he would like to name our baby after his dad, if we were to have a boy." Trudy huffed and rolled her eyes. "I almost cried out in relief."

She smiled at Trudy. "Was he in the delivery room?"

Trudy nodded her head. "Mmm-hmm," she hummed. "Yes, your busy-body of a brother was in the delivery room…" A sly smile crossed her lips. "…and he managed to pass out in the process too."

A high-pitched squeal of delight fell from Nasira as she leaned deeper into the back of the bench. Then she fell into a fit of laughter.

"He decided to get a peek at… _My stuff_ and he did not like what he saw. He…" She fell into a sea of giggles. "…He… _Fainted_ , just as she was crowning!" She covered her mouth with her left hand and she laughed into her palm. She took a deep breath and removed her appendage. She blurted out in a wheeze, "They had to bring two more nurses into the delivery room, just to help him!" Both women laughed.

As the laughter died down, Nasira eyed the time from her gold wrist watch. It was going on two-thirty. The average amount of time for the trip was one hour, without the consideration of the traffic. It was time to leave the city and head on out to the suburbs. She promised her brother that they were going to arrive to the house around four o'clock.

"Okay True, we have to head on out now," announced Nasira with her joy evident in her tone.

"What time is it?" she asked, smiling.

"It's going on two-thirty."

"Oh, sugar foot," the Amity woman snapped. The woman began to collect the plastic wrappers from their lunches.

Nasira stood up just as she remembered something that was important. "Oh shit," she murmured. She looked towards her sister-in-law. "I just remembered that we didn't find anything for my mom," she told her.

Trudy blew a raspberry with her lips as her hand performed a nonchalant wave in front of her face. "Don't worry about it," she told Nasira.

"But you won't have a gift for my mom."

"It won't be a problem…" She stood up and then she glimpsed at her sister-in-law. "…I already bought a gift for your mom and it's at the house," she admitted. Then she turned away and strolled a few feet away.

'What?' Nasira silently questioned as she eyed the Amity woman, who just deposited her trash into a garbage receptacle. She checked her surroundings for any litter that she may have dropped on the floor. Trudy returned in the meantime.

Before Nasira could question her motive behind her deception, the woman further explained. "First, let me just say that _I did_ need a dress for the party. This much was true."

"So… Why did you lie?"

"Because…" A simpering grin appeared on her full lips. "…I wanted to spend some time with you. We never had spent any time together, ever since your brother and I've started dating." She turned around and grabbed onto the plastic-encased, curves of the stroller's handles. "You…"

Nasira traveled to the back of Lucien's stroller and she latched onto the handles. She pushed the carriage closer to Trudy's location.

"…have always been…" Trudy's face performed a slight grimace and she shrugged her shoulders. "… _stand-offish_ …towards me." She began to push Nova's stroller into the direction that they used prior.

Her lips formed a lopsided grim smile while her shame filled her spirit. 'So, you've noticed too, huh?' Nasira proceeded to push her own child's stroller and travel.

* * *

After a bit of encouragement from Nasira to "put the metal to the pedal", Trudy drove her life-mate's vehicle a little faster than the legalized speed limit. They had one-hour left to their deadline and they had to travel to the village from the center of the city. Fortunately for the two women, they managed to reach the village's entrance within thirty minutes. As they drove through Dauntless Village, Nasira was struck with nostalgia. She sat in the front passenger seat and stared out of both the windshield and the side window, with enthralled curiosity. Her dark brown eyes glimpsed at the familiar landmarks and the facades that belonged to shops that she used to patron, when she was a child. Each structure caused snapshots of memories to arouse.

Once the sports utility vehicle reached the corner of her old neighborhood, she actually giggled as her tummy unleashed a ticklish sensation. She peered at her windshield, at the joyous scenario that was unfolding on the street. Her sight landed on the vision of a small gathering that comprised of children and adults. They were playing a rousing game of soccer. As the truck slowly drove further into the neighborhood, she witnessed the game come to a halt and then the crowd disperse.

Once the car was about a foot away from the populated scene, Trudy made the car come to a halt. She rolled down the driver's side window halfway and she stuck her head out. "Get out of the street, you old geezers!" she shouted at the crowd before bursting out in a series of giggles.

A millisecond later, there was a chorus of jeering and boos at the driver. Trudy continued to laugh in response and as she stuck her head back inside of the vehicle. The car began to move again, a few seconds later. Nasira stared out of the passenger window and glimpsed at the passing faces, some of whom were familiar.

Dante's SUV was driven an additional fifty-seven feet to the end of the cul-de-sac, where the Grant's family home was located. The large, six-bedroom Italianate-styled house served as the centerpiece for the neighborhood. The truck pulled up and parked in the circular, asphalt-paved driveway that was in front of the red-bricked home.

"I wonder if my lovely, micro-managing husband has driven off his volunteers yet," Trudy wondered loudly as she pulled the key from out of the ignition.

"Knowing Dante… Yes," his sister claimed as she unbuckled her seat belt. She exited the vehicle just as Trudy began to laugh.

The two mothers began the task of removing their children from the vehicle. Both toddlers were asleep as they sat in the truck's rear seats. Nasira unstrapped a sleeping Lucien and carried the heavy boy from out of the car. She figured that she could get her belongings later.

"Nassy!" her brother Samson called out. She glanced at the tall and broad figure that was running up the driveway, towards her. "You don't have to carry the birthday boy while I'm here!" he told her, once he approached. "Hand him over," he instructed with his hands out.

"Thank you, Sammy!" she told her brother as she handed her son off. "I need to stop carrying him. He's doing a number on my back." She grabbed her belongings from out of the backseat.

"Well, he's a growing boy," her brother pointed out. "Sooner than you think, he will be a grown man with his own family and you'll have your own Bunchie."

Nasira scowled at her brother. It ended up making him laugh. "Can I…?" She slammed both doors shut. "…please just appreciate the current moment, when he's still a baby, without anybody reminding me that he will be adult soon?"

Samson chuckled. "He's turning one tomorrow, but the time does fly by quickly," he warned. He pointed over to the street. "Take _my kids_ for instance…" He glanced at the trio of girls that were playing jumping rope in the street. "…I remember the days of when they were born as if it occurred just yesterday. I remember what I wore on those days. I remember the nurses' faces. I remember the girls' social workers. I remember how the girls looked and smelled like, when they were placed in my arms. I remember everything! And the next thing I know…" He began to gently rock Lucien in his arms. "…They are dragging me around the Pit and taking me to stores, so they can buy clothes and makeup," he groaned with a good-natured vibe.

"Why don't they ask their step-daddy to buy them _those clothes and makeup_?" she told him, with a triviality lace in her voice.

Samson groaned, making his sense of irritation in his voice. He rolled his eyes. "Can we not bring them up during this joyous time?"

She deeply exhaled as she thought, 'Shit, what now?' She glimpsed at her brother as she walked to the rear of the vehicle. "Which one started up with you?" she inquired.

He huffed. "Both," he grunted. "First, it was Damon, with his list of demands and then it was his fucking husband, who had to brag about what he is able to do for the girls."

She felt her brother's anger. "How did this _revelation_ happened?" she asked him, as she proceeded to walk down the stone-lined walkway. Samson allowed her to walk pass him. She sensed her brother's presence behind her.

"Long story-short: It involves Natalya upcoming 'Sweet Fifteen' birthday party and what he wants me to do. Then his fucking husband stuck his nose in our business. Before the argument could become too heated, where I would've jammed my fist down one of their throats, I called the girls and then we bounced."

Nasira pulled the black, iron storm door open. She glanced over her right shoulder, at her brother. "I told you not to marry that asshole," she told him. She heard her brother mumble a 'Yeah-yeah-yeah', as she opened the door.

 _ **"I TOLD YOU KIDS TO STOP RUNNING IN AND OUT OF THE HOUSE!"**_

Nasira recognized the booming voice that was behind the screaming scolding. It was her father's brother and Dauntless' leader of Defense, Xerxes Grant. "It's me, Uncle Xerxes! It's Nassy!" she loudly announced as she stepped foot into the foyer.

A millisecond later, she heard a series of fast-paced footsteps come from the living room, which was next to the foyer. Xerxes' wife, her aunt Callisto entered the corridor, a few seconds later. Her lightly tanned face was flushed with a pink tint and her skin glowed with excitement, along with adrenaline. Her eyes were bulging and her full pink lips were parted. "Ohhh!" she squealed. "Look at you…" the older Dauntless woman shrieked in delight.

Nasira unveiled a toothy smile. "Hi, Aunt Callie! How…?" She watched the woman eagerly trot over into her direction, with her arms extended. "…are…" She surveyed the woman as she ran pass her. "...you?"

"…You've gotten _sooo_ big!" Callisto squealed with delight as she observed the sleeping toddler. "The last time I've seen you…"

Nasira detected the poorly-restrained chuckle that vibrated Samson's shoulders and chest. She sneered at him. A family of chuckles warmed her spirit with familial familiarity as they bounced off of the back of her head. She turned forward and was greeted with the sight of her Uncle Xerxes.

The Dauntless faction leader of the Defense Department stood in the doorway that led to the living room. His bulky and tall frame leaned up against the post and his arms were folded across his chest. He was peering at the scene with a smile on his face.

She smiled at him. "Hi, Uncle Xerxes!" She strolled up to him and gave him a hug. His brawny arms wrapped themselves around her smaller frame and supplied an affectionate squeeze.

"How are you doing, baby?" he warmly greeted before giving her forehead a kiss.

"I am doing alright. Apparently, I am invisible to my own family members," she jibed. Both Grant family members laughed.

As soon as they parted, Xerxes said, "So, how does it feel to become a mother to a one year-old?"

She deeply inhaled. Her brain issued a montage of memories that were made during the past year and a half. All of those memories included her beautiful son and herself, but there were some snapshots that included Eric. 'Eric… Please don't even think about him,' her conscience warned. She smiled with her plump lips tightly sealed together. "Like it flew by too quickly. I remember when he was still in my belly as if it was yesterday," she remarked. Her right hand gave her uncle's left arm a soft tap. "So, how have you been doing, Xerxes? I would come by your office and see you, but…Uh… I don't want to get shot by a rubber bullet…" Her soft features frowned up. "… _again_."

Xerxes smiled and then snorted before falling into a fit of laughter.

Nasira continued to frown.

"That…" His voice died and resurrected as a family of snickers. He deeply inhaled and on the exhale, he explained. "That was an accident that was executed by a soldier who was still a rookie and green-behind-the ears. He didn't know that you were a non-threat towards me. He was only doing his job, which was to protect me. He thought that you were armed—

"Yeah, I was! With a sweet potato pie, Unc!"

The light-hearted smile withered away from his face and a veil of seriousness covered him. His callused and thick-skinned hands gently grabbed at her elbows. His brown eyes focused on her. "And I was very disappointed…" he said with a strong sense of sincerity. There was a pause in his speech. The corners of his lips fluttered. He couldn't hold onto his restraint any longer. A toothy grin approached his lips. "…with the fact that a good-looking pie had managed to fall on that floor—

"You know what…?" She didn't fill in the rest of her statement. Nasira suddenly walked away from her late father's brother. Her back was soon assaulted by the raucous sounds of his laughter. She strolled into her brother's location. "Sammy, can you take Luke up to my bedroom and put him down. Just place him in the center of the bed and place the pillows around him, so he won't roll over and fall."

Samson nodded his head. "Sure thing, Nassy," he said softly.

Nasira proceeded to walk down the long corridor, which led to several entries of different parts of the first floor. But not before she gave her laughing uncle a playful slap on his thick arm. Her eyesight caught the familiar brown, leather chaise lounge that was positioned in front of the right wall. As she walked in front of the elaborate chair, she dropped her shopping bags onto the seat. She continued to walk with her natural moderate pace. The closer she was to the kitchen, her sense of smell kept being passionately kiss by the fragrances of spices and cooked meals. Her stomach rumbled with delight. Then her ears picked up the symphony of familiar noises as she drew closer.

"—and don't forget to check the lamb! It should be about done! Raquel, please make sure that everything is kept together: side dishes with the side dishes and the meat together with the meats!"

Nasira rolled her eyes. Dante was still the same overwhelmingly, controlling when it came to orchestrating dinner parties. She knew that this was a role that her brother enjoyed playing.

"Now… Where were we?" she heard Dante sensually groan. The sounds of feminine, coquettish giggling followed.

Her face frowned up. 'Eww,' she silently squealed. She stepped into the kitchen and found the Dauntless-Amity couple standing in the middle of the kitchen. They were in a tight embrace and was in the act of kissing. Her eyes then spotted their daughter, a few feet away from their feet. She was sitting on the floor and eating cookies. "Eww…" she groaned loudly. She watched the two part from each other and stare her down. For Trudy, it was a look of brief alarm which quickly turned into an expression of bashfulness, once she realized it was Nasira. For Dante, it was a look of annoyance, both before and after he realized it was his sister. "…you two need to go and get a room! You have children present and you need to set an example!" she jested as she stepped further into the kitchen. She heard her sister-in-law snicker as she walked past them. The young Dauntless woman approached her niece and squatted down in front of her. She watched the child look up at her with her innocent, glowing brown eyes. Nova smiled at her aunt. She smiled in return. "HHHHHeey Nova, sweetheart!" she merrily greeted the little girl. She heard the child giggle. "Can your Auntie Nassy have a piece of your cookie?" she queried the toddler.

"Nova…"

The girl turned her attention to her father, who still stood behind Nasira.

"…don't give that old buzzard anything!" instructed Dante. The teasing was evident in his strong, baritone voice. The sounds of Trudy's giggles filled up the air.

Nova chuckled, putting her rows of teeth on display. The toddler turned her hazel gaze back on her aunt, when she noticed the look of shock on the woman's face.

"Now, don't you go and listen to your daddy!" Nasira warned. "He doesn't mean what he just said! He doesn't always make the best choices. Did you know that he once made our Thanksgiving turkey with the gizzard bag still inside?"

Dante groaned. "When will _you ever_ forget that?"

She glimpsed over her right shoulder, at her brother. "Never!" she sworn. She returned her focus onto her niece. "And he also once fried chicken by using old fish grease too!" she happily confessed.

"And forget that one, too!"

Nova giggled and then handed her aunt her half-eaten cookie.

"Thank you, Nova" her aunt announced as she stared at the somewhat soggy cookie in her hand. She looked at the girl. "That was very thoughtful of you."

"Now Nova, baby, what do you say after someone says 'thank you'?" Trudy said to her daughter.

Nova stared at her aunt. "Cah-Come!" she announced with a smile on her face.

Nasira giggled and smiled at her niece. She took a bite out of the offering as she stood upright. She looked over to the embracing couple. "So, what needs to be done?"

An enthusiastic grin appeared on Dante's face. "Nothing," he announced with his chest swollen with immense pride.

'Nothing?! Are you shitting me?!' A look of mild surprise crossed his sister's face. "Nothing?" she said with a hint of a smile.

Dante chuckled. "Nothing," he repeated.

"Nothing?" she repeated, with equal parts of amazement and disbelief. "No shit?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Nothing needs to be cooked, bought, arranged and fixed. Everything that needed to be done is done. I've managed to break the family's cycle of never having everything cooked." He raised his hands in the air as a sign of being victorious. In a deeper tone, he announced "I've managed to break the Grant family's curse of procrastination!" He unleashed a series of comical, faux chuckles. "Yea-Aaaaahhh!"

Both Trudy and Nova laughed at Dante's antics.

'Mmm, let's see if he has forgotten anything.' She tossed her oldest brother a glare of skepticism. Her brow wrinkled while her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. "What about the backyard?"

Dante tilted his chin towards the ceiling. His own eyes narrowed as he stared at her. His hands were drawn to his hips. "What about it?" he said to her, with his tone showing a mocking level of being offended. "You don't think that everything is done out there?"

She gave the brawny Dauntless fence leader a mocking glare. "Is it?"

"Why don't you go to the backdoor and see?" he challenged.

"All…Right," she murmured. She made a few backward steps. Then she walked into the direction of where the door was located. She quickly made her way to the threshold that was in between the house and the back porch. She peered out at the spacious, acres of land that was in front of her. Her line of sight landed on the vision of a soft yellow structure that was thirty-to-forty feet away from the back porch. She was expecting to view a large tent. Instead she spotted a large structure that appeared to be a large house. 'Well, I'll be damned,' her brain uttered in astonishment. She turned away from the place that used to be her playground as a child and she returned to the house's kitchen. "Holy crap, Dante," she chuckled. "Everything is—

"Done," he chuckled. His arms tightened their hold on his wife. His pecked at her forehead while she smiled with pleasure. Then he turned to his sister. "The guys from the tent place came on Wednesday and spent the entire day putting the thing together. They even laid down the dancefloor. I wasn't here for that one. Raquel was nice enough to stay. The guys who own the portable toilets came by yesterday. I was here for that one."

"So what about the tables and the chairs?" she questioned.

"They are already set and they are set in the way that Mama wanted," he told her.

"What about the lights and the music and the decorations and stuff?"

"It's been taken care of. Once again, I have to thank Raquel and Trigger for that one," he informed her.

"What about the bedroom arrangements?" she asked.

"What about them? They've already been set up. Samson and the girls are sleeping in the bedrooms up in the attic. Only Auntie Evie, Lulu, Kathy and Gaia are staying here, so they were easy to arrange. They will be staying on the second floor with you and Luke. Me, Trudy and Nova are staying in the spare bedroom down here. Trigger has to be at work, around noon, so he and Raquel are leaving tonight. Rogue is staying in the basement. And if Goliath and the twins are coming tonight, then they will be staying down there with him," he answered like an expert.

Nasira was truly impressed with her brother's prudent planning. But she still needed to test him. "What about the cake?"

His head nodded to the refrigerator that was behind him. "It's in the fridge. Originally, I wanted to put it in the basement's fridge, but I didn't want to take the chance of having someone trip and dropping the cake. So, I placed the food into the basement's fridge and put the cake into this one."

"So, we're—

"Good and ready," he told her.

"Okay, so…" Nasira glanced around the kitchen and took in the sight of the various aluminum serving pans that covered every surface. "…everything is done."

Dante nodded his head. "Yup."

* * *

With a cheery and babbling toddler in her arms, Nasira exited the steam-filled bathroom that was attached to her bedroom. Her bare feet approached the foot of her queen-sized bed and allowed her son to trample across the mattress' surface. The small, cotton towel fell off of him and landed on the bed, causing his nudity to be on display. He ended up stumbling and then falling onto the bed. She listened to his giggles. He climbed to his feet and proceeded to bounce.

She pointed at Lucien as she strolled to the side of the bed. "You're lucky that tomorrow is your birthday and that your grandmother isn't here to see you right now," she informed her son, with a smile.

Lucien giggled and continued to jump.

Nasira giggled. Then she proceeded to prepare for the party. The bedroom was already filled with the muffled, but loud sound of music, which came from outside of the Grants' home. The steady stream of music would've had a person believe that the party was in full-swing.

She produced her outfit and the toddler's clothes from her closet. She placed the items on the foot of the bed. She glimpsed at her naked, jumping son. "Alright Naked Boy, come here," she instructed. He giggled as he made his way over to her and he jumped into her embrace. Her left cheek was subjected to a sloppy kiss. "Oooh," she swooned. She glanced at her laughing son. "Thank you, my big boy!" She kissed his forehead. "Now let's get you dressed in your birthday outfit!"

Nasira proceeded to dress the young guest of honor in his celebration clothes. After adorning his naked butt with a diaper, she slipped his chunky legs into a pair of black dress slacks. Then, there was the pair of socks and sneakers. A black, buttoned down shirt was applied and then there was a clip-on bow tie. When her fingers touched Lucien's final piece of clothing, she stared down at the dinner jacket with affection. The pads of her digits did quick swipes at the black, velvet material. She giggled. Her dark brown eyes glimpsed at her son. "Hopefully…" She straightened the jacket out. "…your father will be able to see you tonight, Luke," she said softly as she slipped his left arm into the sleeve. After she slipped his other arm into the jacket, she performed a quick inspection with her hands. She gazed down at her son and smiled. "You really look like your daddy, baby" she told him.

Lucien giggled, showing off his teeth. "Mama!" he chirped.

"Yeah," she chuckled. Before they could delve deeper into a babbling conversation, a trio of door knocks interrupted their flow. The mother looked away from her son to stare at the bedroom's door. "Yeah?"

"It's Trudy," came a millisecond later from the other side of the door.

"Come on in, Trudy!" announced Nasira to the closed door.

The wooden barricade was gently pushed open, a second later. Nova entered the bedroom first and her mother followed, closely behind. The Amity woman gently closed the door behind her as if she didn't want to cause a bigger disturbance in the house. She glimpsed over her right shoulder, at Nasira. "I need help putting on my dress," the woman informed her. "There's a zipper in the back and I cannot reach it. I would've asked your brother to help me, but he's nowhere to be found," she further explained.

"Oh sure, I'll help you, Trudy" Nasira informed the woman. She watched her sister-in-law turn away from the door and then walk further into the bedroom. The woman guided her niece to the foot of the bed, where she helped the toddler climb onto the thick mattress. Nasira watched her niece crawl to the center of the queen-sized bed, where she was met by her cousin. She tore her attention away from the two children as soon as she saw them beginning to play. She turned her attention to Trudy, who has already stripped off her silk, teal-colored bath robe off. Her back was facing the Dauntless woman, so she wasn't able to view the expression of surprise that was written on Nasira's face.

'Well… Damn,' she slightly uttered as her brain began to clear out the awe-inspired fog. 'I wasn't expecting to see this.' Her eyes continued to take in the beautiful and colorful tattoo that covered her sister-in-law's entire back. Trudy's glowing, honey-toned skin was decorated with a trio of colorful koi fish that were slicing through several waves. A pair of yellow chrysanthemums were added to the artwork, near the base of her back. Nasira performed a few heavy swallows before her lips parted and recited an "I…"

Trudy glanced over her right shoulder, at Nasira. "Mmm?"

Nasira pointed at her back. "Your… Back," she squeaked out.

"Oh," Trudy chirped. Her hands cupped her waist just as she said, "Do you mean my tattoo?" After Nasira nodded her head, the woman said "Dauntless isn't the only place that has tattoo parlors, you know." She smiled a sly smirk to the younger woman. She returned to her task, which was getting dressed. "I got this a few weeks after my grandmother passed. It's a memorial for her and a dedication to the passing of my youth," she explained as she slipped her dress from out of the bag.

Nasira was reminded about her own process of getting dressed for the party. She did a quick perusal of her semi-nude body. At the moment, she only wore her bra and underwear. 'Oh,' her brain whimpered before doling out commands to get dress. Her right hand snatched up the black dress that was draped over the edge of the mattress, a few inches away from her. "Why did you get the fish tattooed on you?" she inquired as she searched for the dress's hemline.

Trudy turned around to face her sister-in-law. She held her dress in front of her nude body. She glimpsed at the children before speaking to Nasira. "Koi fish were my grandmother's favorite things," she explained.

"Oh yeah?" Nasira said cheerfully before slipping the dress over her head. "Did she ever get to see them, in Amity? I know that there are some farmers that breed them."

"Yeah, she saw them. In fact, she even worked in the fish farms, when she was younger. She would spend her time in the koi breeding unit, whenever she could. She told me that she almost had the chance to work in there."

"Oh yeah, why didn't she?" asked Nasira as she pulled on the hemline of her dress.

Trudy unveiled a weak grin. "She married my grandfather, who told her to stop working there. He felt that the fish farms weren't a suitable place for a woman to work. There were too many men… According to him. She spent almost the rest of her life working in the corn fields. She worked there up until the last twelve years of her life. Before she became bedridden, I did manage to score her a trip there. She spent an entire day at the koi farms." The weak smile on her face morphed into a full beaming smile.

"She must've had a ball, when she was there," Nasira stated with a smile.

Trudy giggled as she nodded her head. "Yeah, she did. She talked about that day all of the time, following that day. Up until, she couldn't speak anymore. So, a few weeks after she died, I wanted to get a tattoo in honor of her. The idea came to me immediately. I also chose to get this tattoo to commemorate the fact that I've spent my teenage years and most of my youth taking care of people. First, I had to help my grandmother to take care of my grandfather, when his Alzheimer's became worse and then I had to take care of her. When she died, I was thirty-six at the time. By then, every person that I knew since I was a kid was already married and starting families of their own."

"What happened to your parents?"

The Amity woman shrugged her shoulders while a look of indifference appeared. "According to my grandmother, they dropped me off at their house on a Saturday afternoon. They promised that they would return. They had to take care of some business. It was the last time we saw them. I was two years old, when that happened. I don't remember them at all. So, it was just me and my grandparents."

Nasira's smile slightly fell. "I'm sorry, Trudy."

The woman nodded her head as her eyes peered down at the carpeted floor. "Like I was saying before, a few weeks after my grandmother died, I decided to get a tattoo. I knew that I wanted to get the koi fish, right away. I knew that there were a few professional tattoo artists that lived in Amity. I had set up an appointment with a lady. She was nice and she had shown me some pictures of her work. Then, two days before my appointment with the tattoo artist, I met your brother." She chuckled. "He was in the Town Square with a few of his soldiers, one day. I was there, buying vegetables and other stuff. We managed to bump into each other." She playfully scoffed. "It was like something that was out of a movie."

Nasira giggled. "Was there a pause between the two of you, like they do in the movies, as well?"

Trudy answered with a "Yup!" before dissolving into a chuckle. "We quickly said our apologies and we split up. He had gone his way while I had gone my way. I continued shopping. But every so often, I would occasionally spot your brother staring at me. I stayed a little longer at the farmer's market than I originally planned…" She giggled. "I hoped that he would talk to me…"

As the Amity woman continued to reminisce, Nasira noticed something on the petite woman's left hip and on her left thigh. She caught glimpses on strategic dark markings on the woman's toffee-colored skin. 'Is that…?' her brain murmured. Her dark brown eyes glimpsed at the woman's face. "Trudy?"

"….he—Yes, honey?"

Nasira's left index finger pointed to Trudy. Her sight landed back on the Amity woman's thigh. "Do you have a _Mommy Tattoo_ on you?"

"Oh!" the woman squeaked. "Oh yes, yes I do!"

Nasira stared into the woman's eyes just as her sense of surprise ran through her. She watched her sister-in-law moved her crumpled dress away from her front. She revealed her bare torso, pelvis, hips and thighs. All of her parts were covered in a large tattoo that were detailed and cryptic.

"I ended up getting it done last year, a few weeks after Autumn started," announced a cheerful Trudy. "It was the only time that your mom, your family and the tattoo artist could get together. They all came over to our house and they stayed there for a few days. I had a lovely time with them…" She peered down at her stomach. Her right hand made an appreciative caress against her flat belly. "It definitely hurt like hell, when it happened…" She glanced at Nasira. "… Did you know that they use a makeshift tattoo gun for this? I was expecting for the woman to use the same ones that Dauntless artists use. Once I saw the stick with the needle on it, I knew that I was going to be in for a long night!" She laughed.

With her eyes still focused on the custom tattoo work, Nasira asked, "How long did it take?"

"Mmm, about seventeen hours," answered Trudy. "But we broke it down into two days, seven hours for the first day and ten hours for the second day. The second day was a breeze for me. I slept through most of the process, on the second day. I was _sssssooooo_ tired! I didn't sleep on the previous night because I was in so much pain. Your brother had to give me one of his pills that he uses for his back pain, in order to stop me from crying." She lightly chuckled. "I really wanted to get this. Your brother told me about it, in one of our conversations when we first started dating. I was interested in them, then. But then, when I finally saw your mother's tattoos, I knew that I wanted one. But then, I assumed that I needed to be a blood relative in order to get one. So you can imagine my surprise, when your mom asked me if I was interested in getting one." She stared at her stomach. "I thought that your brother wouldn't like it because it was so big and it covered my stomach. But once I finished healing, he couldn't keep his hands off of me!"

'Ooooooo-kay! That was just… Too much information, right there,' Nasira secretly grumbled. She took that as a cue to stop chatting and resume getting prepared for the party. She proceeded on getting dress.

"Do you plan on getting one?" Trudy questioned.

Nasira inhaled and then exhaled. "Originally… No. I didn't have no intentions of getting one." She looked down at her dress. "But ever since my mom…" Her voice trailed off. Her fingers picked at some imaginary lint that was on the fabric. "I figured that she would appreciate it, if I did do it."

Trudy nodded her head. "Yeah," she solemnly murmured as she peered down at the floor. "Well," she said as she stepped into her dress. "It's never too late to tell her…." She slipped her toned arms into each sleeve. "Just tell her. I'm sure that she'll make the arrangements for you to have it done." She smoothed out the folds and wrinkles in the dress, before turning her back to Nasira. "Nasira, can you please help me with the zip—

"Oh, sure!" The Dauntless woman approached Trudy's form. Her hands reached out for the dress' closure and she pulled the zipper's slider up, fastening the dress. She took a few steps back and gave her sister-in-law some space.

Trudy turned back around and faced the woman. She glimpsed down at her dress and then at Nasira again. "Okay, so… How do I look?"

The taller woman did a slow perusal of Trudy's form. She stared into the pair of bright orbs. "You might make another baby, tonight!"

* * *

After helping Trudy, Nasira slipped on her stiletto boots and then she had gone downstairs to the house's first level. She left Lucien with her sister-in-law, so she could help Dante set up the food in the tent. Before she could step foot inside of the kitchen, she heard her brother's booming voice. He was issuing orders to the unfortunate people that decided to volunteer their help.

"—es with the pans of macaroni…" Dante's eyes landed on his sister. "Where have you been?" he asked her.

Nasira pointed to her outfit. "I was getting ready and you can't rush the art of perfection," she jested.

Dante's lips performed a smirk. "Well… Art of Perfection…" He pointed over to the stacks of pans that were on the counter. "…take those out and put those over the burners, please. We already have guests out there."

"Okey-dokey," she chirped, before strolling over to the counter. "How many guests plan on showing up?" she queried as she picked up the trays of food.

"Fifty-two, give or take," he answered.

Nasira whistled in mild astonishment, as a response.

"Mama gave me the list of people that she wanted to be here," he informed her.

"Well, whatever the old woman wants, hopefully she will get, tonight" she told him.

Nasira carried the trays out of the kitchen and then out of the house. When she stepped out of the house, she was struck by a thick breeze. Her measured stroll had come to a halt as she braced the cold temperature. "Whoooo," she groaned. As she slowly came to a chill, her eyes caught the sight of Samson leaving the tenstile tent. He performed a light jog to approach her.

"What's up? Why are standing out here?" he asked as his brown eyes gave her a look of concern.

"A _very-very-very_ cold wind had just decided to ram itself up my ass and it just caught me off-guard, that's all," she explained to her big brother.

Samson chuckled. He held his hands out. "Give me those," he instructed her. "I want to stay as far from that kitchen as much as possible."

Nasira giggled. "Dante's been _that_ bad?"

Her brother grunted. "You have no idea." He snickered. "I am _sooooo_ going to kick Rogue's ass, when I see him! He knew what he was doing, when he chose to the task of picking Ma up."

She chuckled. She passed the pans of food off. "Never underestimate the baby of the family, brother" she reminded him.

After her conversation with her brother, she ventured back inside of the house. She returned to the kitchen and proceeded to help her eldest brother with the food preparations. Within the following two hours, she unknowingly became the host for the party. She greeted guests as they arrived and she guided them to the function's venue. She made sure that every guest was alright and comfortable. She cleaned up any messes that were committed. Every so often, she would take a break just so she could check up on Trudy and the children. She was pleased to discover her son enjoyed being around people that weren't a part of the intermediate family.

Nasira also intermittently checked her cell phone for any messages from Eric. She would speak a voiceless prayer before she would take a peek at her phone's screen. With every viewing, she was met with nothing. After her latest viewing, she unleashed a sigh of frustration. 'Come on, Eric,' she silently groaned as she walked to the front porch.

She stepped down on the second stone step and she scanned the presented scene in front of her. The evening was creeping into the light blue sky, making the expansive sky gently change into a navy blue. The streetlamps were flickering. The kids and the handful of adults, however, still played in the street as if it was a mid-afternoon on a Summer's day. Her dark brown eyes surveyed the fun. Her brothers Trigger and Samson, along with her cousins Fallon, Zachariah and Sebastian were playing soccer with the kids from the neighborhood. Cheers, jeers and the occasional light taunting filled the air. She climbed down the other steps and proceeded to walk down the walkway, to the sidewalk's curb.

"Nasira."

The voice. It caused her to come to a halt. The pleasant surprise that she felt had also caused the mother to freeze up briefly. 'Oh God, please don't let it be a hallucination,' she silently prayed. Her feet made the initiative to cause her body to turn and face the voice's owner. 'Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please….' The moment her eyes took in the familiar build, a toothy smile graced her lips. '…Please. Pl—HE'S HERE! OH, THANK THE LORD! HE'S HERE!'

Her right hand performed a short wave. "Hey, Eric!" she greeted the Dauntless Leader.

In response, Eric gave her a simple head nod.

She made a slow approach. "You…" She quietly performed a quick perusal of his attire with her eyes. She approved of the chosen combination of jeans, sweater and the leather jacket that he wore. "…have shown up in the nick of time. Dinner is ready."

"That's…" He nodded his head again. "That's good," he said softly.

Nasira sensed the awkwardness that was radiating off of him. She was aware of where it stemmed from. Eric was about to immerse himself in the type of environment that he hasn't experienced: a family dinner. She knew that the faction leader was a loner, through-and-through. His childhood and upbringing was hostile and unsafe for him. He suffered from abuse and neglect from the most important person that was supposed to be there for him.

"I'm happy that you came," she told him as she took a hold of his right hand. Both sets of fingers entwined. "Luke is going to be thrilled, when he sees you." She saw light dance behind his eyes. A small smile appeared on his lips. Her eyes' sight jumped off of his lips and landed on his eyes again. This time, she took note of the worn-out look that they possessed. Each eye held droopy and discolored bags underneath them. His usual luster was no longer present. "You haven't been getting any sleep, I see," she remarked.

Eric bowed his head slightly. "I've been up on most nights. We're only three weeks in, with the trials…" He deeply exhaled. "…and it feels like it's been going on for years, now."

Her unoccupied hand caressed his stubbly, left cheek. She viewed the slight turn of his face and making his cheek press deeper into the curve of her palm. It caused a warm blush to fill her cheeks and her heart to race. "Hopefully, you will get some sleep tonight, once you get home," she wished.

"I hope so," he murmured.

She was about to speak again when she spotted his cerulean-blue orbs peek at something that was behind her. She turned her attention to the space that was behind her and she came across Samson. The behemoth, six-foot five inched man was walking towards her while he carried one of his daughters in his brawny arms. She watched the natural jovial expression dramatically drain from his face, once he spotted the faction leader. He muttered something in his daughter's ear before settling her back to the sidewalk. Both father and daughter approached the couple.

"Good evening, Dauntless Leader Coulter," her brother greeted Eric.

Nasira detected her brother's change of demeanor. He stood with authority. His shoulders were straight. His eyes focused on Eric with a lack of warmth. He appeared to be a soldier awaiting for orders from his superior officer.

"Daddy, why are you actin' funny?" his daughter Carys queried as she stared at him. All of the adults focused on the seven-year-old girl.

It was Nasira, who answered the girl's inquiry. She lowered herself in a squatting position, in front of her young niece. The child's eyes focused on her face. She grabbed the girl's warm, right hand. "Here, in our homeland—

"In Dauntless," added Carys.

Nasira smiled. "That's right, Carys! Here… In Dauntless. Very good!" she pointed out. "Here, _in Dauntless_ , we have leaders—

"Are they like kings and queens and princesses?" the girl asked excitedly.

"Mmm," hummed Nasira. "Kind of." She glimpsed at Eric before returning her attention to the child. "Dauntless Leader Coulter, here, is a leader," she explained. "So… Whenever we see a leader, we have to stand up straight and stare straight ahead and always stare at them…" She affectionately made Carys' arm wiggle. "…It's our way to say 'thank you' to them."

"Why are we saying 'thank you' to them? Do they…" Carys stopped speaking and she looked at Eric. " _Do you give out gifts_?!" she asked him happily.

Samson and Nasira chuckled while the corners of Eric's lips twitched.

"No, Carys. He doesn't hand out gifts," her father told her.

She glanced at her father and at Eric. "It would be nice, if you did," she told him.

There was chuckling. Nasira watched Eric as he eyed the little girl. "I'll keep that in mind," he told her with a hint of a smile.

Carys beamed. "Okay!" She glanced at her aunt. "Is he Luke's daddy?!" she excitedly asked.

'Oh…Shit.' The smile on Nasira's face was almost kicked off by the sense of surprise. She saw her niece stare at Eric, who was wearing his own look of surprise. "Yes," she confirmed. "He is Luke's daddy."

Carys glanced at her aunt. "I knew it!" she chirped. "He looks like Luke!" She giggled. "Do it mean that Luke is a prince, ever since his daddy is a king?"

"No, Luke is not a prince. But, he is one, to me" explained Nasira.

"Why not?!" the seven-year old asked. "In my princess books, there's a queen and a king and they have children, who is a princess and a prince."

Samson decided to save the day. He placed his hands on her tiny shoulders. "Baby, I'll explain it to you later," he informed her.

Carys stared at her father. "You promise?"

Samson nodded. "I promise."

She pointed her tiny left index finger at him. "Well, I am holding you to it," she told him with a soft grimace on her face.

The adults snickered.

"I came out here to tell you guys that dinner is ready," Nasira reported as she stood upright.

" _The cake is here_?!" asked an excited Carys.

Samson chuckled. "No. she's talking about dinner."

His daughter pouted. "Cake can be dinner, too!"

Her father sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on, _Madame_." He gave her a gentle nudge on the shoulders, in the direction of the house. The little girl proceeded to stroll to the front door. Meanwhile, her father walked to the curb of the sidewalk and faced the street. His hands cupped his mouth. **"** **ARGH-WRRROOOFFF!"** His baritone voice screamed into the air. His voice echoed.

Nasira flinched. Then she silently cursed herself for being caught off-guard. 'Shhh-it…'

 **"** **ARGH-WRRROOF! ARGH-WRRRROOOF!"** Her brother continued to bark into the air.

"Dinner's ready!"

"Yo, it's time to eat!"

"Come on man, let's go!"

Nasira watched the soccer players stop playing in the street. The adults and children ran out of the street and towards the Grant residence with vigor stitched to their trots. She eyed each one of them as they ran through the threshold that led into the house.

 **"** **STOP RUNNING INSIDE OF THE HOUSE!"** She heard Uncle Xerxes shout, seconds after the eleventh person ran inside.

She chuckled. She turned back to the street just in time to see her brother Trigger approach. The third-oldest brother strolled up to her while carrying a toddler in his arms. Behind him, there were three children following him.

Nasira's focus was immediately drawn to the children. All of the children's fair skin and curly blond hair made her assume that they were siblings. Each child, with the exception of the toddler, had an expression of worry written on their faces. But, there was a gleam in their eyes.

The little boy that was being carried by Trigger, glanced over at Nasira. A bright and toothy smile grew on his face while his green eyes shone. His little hand waved at her. "Hi!" he cheerfully greeted her.

She felt her cheeks burn as her heart rate raced. She swooned. 'Oooh, he is sooo adorable!' She smiled at the boy. "Hi, sweetheart!" she sweetly greeted the baby. A rosy tint touched the boy's cheeks and he giggled behind his hands. She looked at Trigger. "Can I keep him?" she jested.

Her brother chuckled. "Well, you're gonna have to get behind Raquel and his grandma, on that line," Trigger told her. "'Cause every woman that comes across Tristan wants to take him!" He maneuvered the boy in his arms and made the toddler look at him. "Is that right, Tristan?" he said to the boy.

"Yup," the boy announced.

Trigger glanced at his sister. "Nassy, meet Tristan…" He made two steps to his right, to reveal the other three kids. The oldest children eyed the three adults with solemn expressions. "…Come on, don't be shy," urged Trigger. He glimpsed at Eric and Nasira. "This is…" He pointed to the only girl out of the group. "…Ixa…"

The lanky girl stepped forward. Her right hand shyly waved. "Hi," she softly stated.

Nasira observed the girl and knew that she was going to grow into a beautiful woman. But the strong sense of naiveté and insecurity was on display.

Trigger pointed to the tallest boy. He was standing behind Ixa. "… Behind Ixa, is the oldest boy, Gabriel…"

Like his sister, Gabriel possessed a tall and thin frame with long, willowy arms. His curly hair was wild and formed a halo around his face, which was a testament to just how much fun that he was having. Nasira felt a soft aura flowing around the child. His bright brown eyes stared at her.

"Hello," he greeted with a soft voice.

She waved in response. "Hello, Gabriel."

"…. Standing behind Gabriel…" Trigger peered behind the tall boy. "…is the brother, Harvest…" A gentle smile crossed the Dauntless soldier's face. "Come on out, Harvest. No one's gonna say anything bad about you," promised Trigger.

Nasira saw the little legs that peeked out from behind Gabriel's limbs.

"You promised?"

The voice had come from a boy that sounded as if he was at the end of his wits with the act of being teased. He sounded as if he was afraid.

"I'm promise you, H. No one is going to tease you," assured Trigger.

"No one is going to tease you, honey" she said to the hidden boy.

"You sure?" she heard him say.

"I'm sure, honey" Nasira confirmed.

Four seconds passed. She watched his sneaker-clad feet make a few unsure steps. She knew that he was weighing his options. Then the pair made two steps to the left, which was followed by three more. He kept walking until he eventually revealed himself. Nasira's sight left his battered-looking shoes and traveled up to his face.

'Oh,' her brain whimpered with surprise.

Nasira was thankful that her features didn't want to match her feeling. Her fine features remained neutral as she eyed the maroon-colored marking that covered his right cheek and eye. She was thankfully aware that the discoloration was Harvest's birthmark, a Port wine stain. Underneath the marking, she knew there was a beautiful little boy. She bent at her waist, so she was eye-level with him. "Hello, Harvest," she said to him.

The boy's brown eyes focused on her. He gave her a wave. "Hi."

"Would you…" Nasira glanced at all of the children. "…like to come inside and some fun with us?" She watched all of the children's faces light up. The dour mood lifted off of them like it was a cape. They excitedly nodded their heads.

"See, you guys?! I told you that she would say 'yes' to you," Trigger told him. "Now, let's go and get some food!"

The three children happily ran towards the Grant's house. Nasira watched them while she laughed. Once they were safely in the house, she turned to Trigger. "Who's their parents?" she asked him.

"Oh…" he chirped. His right elbow jabbed the air. "…These are the Orlands' grand…"

'Oh.' Her eyes widened. Her mind conjured up the memory of her lunch outing. She recalled the image of Darla, when she was showing off her merchandise in the cafeteria.

"…children. You remember Mister Neil and Miss Kat? They live…"

As her brother spoke, she nodded her head.

"…across the street. Whenever we come back to look after the house, we also check up on the Orlands. They're getting older and they don't have the energy to look after the kids."

'The last time I remembered they were never young.' She smiled at her brother, but mainly at Tristan. "That's very nice of you, Trig!"

Her brother glanced at the toddler. "Hey…" He waited for the boy to stare at him. "Are you ready to eat?"

Tristan giggled. "Yup!"

"Alright," Trigger chuckled. He glimpsed at Nasira and Eric. Then he stared at the boy, "Say, 'See you later' to Miss Nassy and Mister Eric".

The boy chuckled. He glanced at the two adults. "See you later, Mister…?" He glanced at Trigger.

"Eric," Trigger told him.

Tristan glanced at them, again. He giggled. "Err-ick," he giggled.

"And Miss…?"

"Nass-stee!" the boy laughed.

"Alright!" cheered Trigger.

Nasira watched her brother and the toddler travel to the house. She turned her attention away from the façade of the Italianate-styled home and allowed the vision of a black, sleek vehicle come into her view. 'Mommy,' her brain alerted her. She watched the car pull up to the empty space that was in front of the house. Twelve seconds later, Rogue emerged from the driver's side.

"Hey Nassy! Hey… Dauntless Faction Leader Coulter," Rogue blurted out as he performed a light jog across the car's front. He ran up to the front passenger's side, where he pulled the door open. Then he pulled the rear door open. He stepped to the side.

Mrs. Grant was the second person to emerged from the vehicle. She gave her house a short glimpse before she turned her attention to her daughter and her grandson's father. She was staring, in particular, at their hands. They were still joined. The Grant matriarch made sure that her leering was known.

'What is she staring…?' Nasira found the object of her mother's interest. 'Oh fuck.' She lost her awareness about the hand-holding as the time passed. Her fingers made the motion to free themselves from his grasp of affection. There was a tighter squeeze from his hand, a sign that he was going to fend off her actions. She glanced at the Dauntless leader. He was staring straight ahead at the Grant family members. There was a knowing smirk on his lips. His eyes held a sense of challenge. She rolled her eyes. 'Eric,' she secretly groaned.

She stared at her mother. The woman was approaching the two parents with a beaming smile on her face. Nasira spotted the mischief behind that smile. Her smile appeared to be as wide as the wall.

"Well, it is nice to see you here…" her mother announced as she was a few feet away. As she came close, her attention was on Eric. "…Dauntless Leader Coulter".

"Happy Birthday, Mrs. Grant" he announced, before being subjected to an affectionate pat on his right shoulder.

"Oooh, thank you, honey!" she told him. She turned her attention to her daughter. "Hi, honey-baby. How are you doing? You look very stylish tonight!"

"Thanks, Mommy," Nasira told her mother.

"You're welcome, baby!" Her mother did a brief glimpse at the house. "Where's my Bunchie?" she asked.

"He's in the house with Trudy and Nova."

"Okay…" She glimpsed at her children and their guests. "Well then, let's get this party started!" Mrs. Grant announced, before trekking up to the house's entrance.

Nasira performed a glance in Rogue's direction. She noticed the short and curvy redhead that was standing next to him. "Hexa!" she happily squealed. She watched the truck driver wave over to her. Hexa then pointed to Nasira's captured hand and obnoxiously chuckled. The mother pursed her lips and smirked.

"What's so funny?" she heard Eric questioned.

Nasira glanced at Lucien's father. He was eyeing Hexa, with a mixture of curiosity and growing annoyance. She gave his thick left shoulder a playful pat. He glanced down at her. "Calm down. She doesn't mean anything by it. Hexa is the only referring to the fact that we're not together and yet…" She lifted her bound hand in the air to show him. "…We're holding hands like we're going steady and I am going to wear your varsity jacket," she explained.

Eric gave her a stoic glower before humming a 'Hmph'. He looked away just as his hand released hers. As soon as his fingers unleashed her hand, the cold temperature quickly settled in. The need to have his touch again quickly grew. She glimpsed at her son's father.

She sighed before walking across the sidewalk to meet up with Hex, who held a toothy smile on her face. "Sssooo, what is up between you and him?" Hexa asked her in a low tone. "The last time I've checked, you said that you and him were just being parents and not in a relationship."

Both women eyed the male Dauntless members as they stood a few feet away. Rogue and Eric were exchanging pleasantries. Both men carried senses of professionalism in their non-verbal languages: their backs were straight and they kept eye contact with each other. Nasira assumed that her brother was more than likely speaking about a 'safe topic' with Eric. Probably something that pertained to Dauntless' security.

"We are," she told her friend as she continued to observe the men. "He was holding onto my hand because he refused to let go."

"Are we still talking about your hand or are you referring to something else? Preferably… Your heart, perhaps?" Hexa joked.

Nasira grinned and playfully jabbed her friend in the bicep. "Come on, let's go inside," she announced. "You have to meet a shit-load of my family members and they all are excited to meet…" She wrapped her arm around the shorter woman's shoulders. "…your munchkin ass!"

Hexa tossed her a wary glance. "The way that you said that makes me feel… a little bit concern, right now," she nervously giggled. "I don't think…" They began to travel towards the house.

As they were about to pass the men, Nasira reached out and gave the back of Rogue's left ear a generous pluck.

"Ow, damnit!" she heard him hiss.

Her plump lips curved into a grin. She continued to stroll up the cement-paved walkway and listen to Hexa.

"…I could handle any more nerve-wracking experiences!"

She chuckled. "You must mean my mother," she pointed out.

"So, she's that intimidating to everyone of your brothers' girlfriends?"

Nasira nodded her head. "And even towards Samson's ex-boyfriends and to his ex-husband, when they first started dating."

Hexa groaned. "Oh please, God! Please tell me that she loosened up as time gone on by, at least."

Nasira giggled. "Yes, eventually. But, for you? It'll probably be a while due to the fact that Rogue is the baby out of the bunch."

The redhead groaned out in frustration.

"Aaaannnnnnndddd… There's the fact that Rogue can act like a 'Mama's Boy' sometimes," added Nasira.

"Oh God!" Hexa pitifully moaned.

Nasira cackled.

* * *

As soon as the quartet of Dauntless members entered the foyer of the house, they were immediately enveloped by the warmth and jovial vibes. Nasira resumed her role as the party's hostess and she had taken everyone's coats and placed them in a nearby closet. Rogue, then, settled into the role of tour guide and he had taken his girlfriend, as well as, Eric on a tour for the house. Every so often, she would hear an outburst of cheerful greetings come from further inside of the home. It just made her hope for Eric. She wanted the faction leader to grow comfortable as he remained in the house. She wanted him to feel comfortable and safe around her kinfolk.

After she hung up their coats, she furthered enter the house, in search of the trio. She peeked into the living room. The social dwelling was filled with her family members and her mother's friends. She noticed there was a rousing card game going on between some of her male relatives. She chuckled. 'It hasn't even really begin yet and already…' Another explosion of cheers erupted. It had come from the kitchen. 'What now?!' She peeled herself from the doorway and traveled further down the corridor, to the kitchen.

"He actually brought a girl home!" she heard someone shrieked.

Nasira entered into a peculiar-but-comical scene. In the spacious room, a small group of elderly women were surrounding Hexa. The diminutive woman was passed around from woman-to-woman like she was a doll amongst children. Rogue stood outside of the circle, looking confused about what to do. Her mother stood on the side, behind the island counter and pouring herself some water into a cup. There was a smile of content on her face. Her eyes occasionally glimpsed at the scene.

"OOOH LOOK AT HER SKIN! DOROTHEA, DID YOU SEE—

"OH YES, GIRL! SHE WAS…"

"SHE HAS SUCH A CUTE SHAPE! DO YOU WORK OUT, HONEY?! BECAUSE…"

"ROGUE, NOW SON, DON'T YOU GO AND MUCK THIS RELATE—

"WHAT DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING, BABY GIRL?!"

Nasira could tell that her mother really respected and liked Hexa. The young woman traveled over to where her mother was standing. She managed to go undetected by her eight aunts. "Hey, old lady," she greeted her mother.

Mrs. Grant smiled. She wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders. Her lips found their way to her daughter's temple. "Hey, baby" she responded with.

The younger woman pointed over to the scenario with her pursed lips. "How did this get started?"

"Well…" Her mother's head did a subtle rocking motion. "…I may, _or may not_ , have entered this very room and announce Hexa…"

'Yup, Mommy likes her. Or she would've been calling Hexa 'this young lady' already.'

"…as Rogue's girlfriend."

"Mommy!" Nasira lightly scolded her mom.

Mrs. Grant shrugged her shoulders to the sounds of her daughter's laughter. They continued to watch. "I like her, for him."

"Me, too."

"Even though I've never imagined for him to be in a serious relationship, right now. But… She is good for him. I can tell that she'll be his rock for him, when I…" She paused.

It caused Nasira to stare at her mother. The smile that was on the older woman's face faltered a bit. Her brown eyes became cloudy.

"After I…" Mrs. Grant glanced at the countertop for a second. Then she gazed at her daughter.

Nasira detected the unshed tears in the older woman's eyes. As a result, her haw began to tremble while her throat began to constrict. Her brain vomited out the possibilities of what could happen after her mother passes. 'This is…'

"This is not the appropriate place for this," her mother told her. Her fingers collected the tears that were threatening to fall. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

The younger Grant woman shook her head. "Mommy, you don't need to apologize."

A grim smile was plastered on her face. "Thank you, baby."

The sound of a door closing interrupted their moment. The younger Grant woman looked away from her mother and at the person who caused the noise. She looked across the kitchen and spotted a familiar stoic face. His blue orbs widened in surprise, when they landed on the scene that was a few feet in front of him. Then they quickly scanned the kitchen. He was looking for someone. Her face was covered with warmth, when she realized that he was searching for her.

"OH LOOK, NASSY'S BOYFRIEND IS HERE!"

'What the—

Nasira's glare was snatched away from Eric and was thrown at Rogue, who was pointing at the confused faction leader. Eight pairs of eyes turned towards the kitchen's door direction and they all focused on the bulky-framed man that was dressed in black. Meanwhile, Nasira viewed her brother yanking his girlfriend from out of the circle.

"OH MY GOODNESS, WE HAVE BEEN WANTING TO SEE YOU!" her Aunt Eula cheered.

Nasira's dark brown orbs leveled her brother with a glare of dislike. In response, he snickered and pointed at her as he traveled to the back door with Hexa. His girlfriend, on the other hand, gave a sympathetic gaze.

"HE'S SO HAND…"

Eric's eyes briefly captured her location before he swarmed by the group of meddlesome women. Even in those short milliseconds, she saw the look of mild fear in them.

"Um, I advise you go and get your man before Maybelline proceeds to measure him for a wedding tux," her mother advised, chuckling.

'Well…Shit.'

* * *

Her dark brown eyes did quick scans around the venue as she strolled across. She was in search of Trudy and the children. During her search, she was stopped by several people, who were guests. She placed her task on temporary hold just so she could interact with everyone. By the time she reached the dance floor, an hour had passed.

As she stepped onto the scene, she detected a wide berth on the floor. Dancing guests were either staring into the space or they would intermittently glimpse. But all of them held smiles on their faces. Nasira held a hunch about what was going on. 'I think I found them.' She politely made her way to the open space and ended up dissolving into a laughing fit, once her eyes settled upon the scene. She had gone into a squatting position while her hands covered her mouth and smothering her chuckles.

Nasira found her son and her niece. They were dancing with each other. Nova's little fat hands were rubbing the soft material of Lucien's jacket as she glared at the black velvet with great interest. Lucien, however, was interested in his Uncle Samson's camera, which was pointed at the two of them. He babbled to his uncle and pointed towards the lens. 'Well, at least they are rocking in rhythm.' Both Dante and Trudy were standing a few feet away, locked in their own rocking embrace. They were keeping an eye on the toddlers.

Dark gray eyes focused on her. She viewed the broad smile on his overjoyed face. His pointer finger turned to her. "Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!" shrieked the guest of honor.

"Hi, baby boy!" she squealed.

Lucien chuckled before he had broken away from his dancing partner, as well as, his role of model for his uncle's camera. He trotted across the space to his mother, who scooped him up in her arms. His chubby cheeks were decorated with maternal love, in the forms of kisses. He giggled and tried to block her onslaught of affection by covering his face.

"You can't… Get away… From… Me!" she chuckled in between kisses.

"Ma…Ma!" the toddler squealed.

Nasira stopped and she laughed. "I love you, my baby!" she said into his hair.

"….woooooo," she heard the boy croon, despite the tent being covered with loud music.

'No… Did he…?' Her heart pounded while her awareness led to her state of shock. 'Did he…? I-I think he did say…' She peered down at the boy. Her fingers touched at his chin and they gently asked him to stare into her eyes. He obeyed. "I love you," she repeated, testing the waters.

Lucien's lips parted. He took an inhale and she watched his lips move to form the words. "I… Luh… Wwwooooo," he announced.

'Oh my God, he did say it!' her brain shrieked. "Oh!" she squealed. 'My baby said that he loves me! He said that he loves me!' She released a celebratory squeal. She kissed his cheeks again. "Oh thank you, baby boy!" She glanced down at his face. "Your Da-Da is here—

The birthday boy's face brightened up with excitement. "Da-Da!" he happily called out.

"Yeah! Your Da-Da is here!" She stood up and wordlessly asked for his hand. He slipped his hand into hers. Then she led her son away from the dancefloor.

Once they were off of the floor, Nasira scanned the venue for Eric's presence. She found the faction leader and Luke's father, siting at an end of the long banquet table that was set up. It was the end of the table that was closest to the tent's exit. She caught him in the middle of surveying the room. His hands were folded on his lap while his left leg was folding over his right. His right foot bounced in a repetitive manner.

"Da-Da!" shrieked Lucien.

Nasira viewed the Dauntless leader as he focused on them. The corners of his lips traveled north and formed a smile. The light in both of his eyes grew.

"Da-Da!" Lucien managed to wrangle his hand from out of his mother's clasp. His sneaker-clad feet trekked across the space that was in between him and his father. He practically leapt into Eric's embrace. "Da-Da! Da-Da! Da-Da! Da…" He animatedly babbled to his father.

Eric's dazzling eyes focused on his son. There was a smile on his face.

Nasira breathed a hefty amount of air. Air shifted and she felt a thin blanket of energized heat brush her left side. A black mass took up the space that was next to her. Her eyes did a sideways glance at the person and she ended up freezing. 'Ssshhh-it!'

Dante continued to observe the unfolding scene that was presented before him. He didn't bother to speak to his sister. She noticed his narrow eyes and clenching jaw. His nostrils flared. She didn't detect anger from him, but he wasn't jolly either.

'Shit,' she quietly grunted.

Her eyes glanced at the father and son, who sat twenty feet away. Lucien sat on his father's lap, babbling and playing with his father's silver dog tags that were dangling in front of him. Eric, on the other hand, was staring straight ahead at Dante. His blue eyes radiated with a mild malevolent energy.

Nasira glanced at her brother. He was still glowering at Eric. She glimpsed at Eric, who was goading the wall's district leader. She felt like she was watching a stand-off between a grizzly bear and a lion.

'Well… Shit.'

* * *

'Shit…' her brain breathed for the umpteenth time.

Once again, she caught her brother glaring at Eric. Her brother sat on the other side of the banquet table, in between his wife and the edge of the table. His amber-hued eyes were heavily focused on Eric.

"Geez, why is Dante staring at Eric like he wants to beat his ass or something?" whispered Rogue, in a rushed tone.

She glanced at her dinner mate, who sat on her left side. He was in the process of staring at his meal while cutting apart his portion of brisket. "I don't know," she informed her younger brother. She peered down at her barely-eaten meal. "I just hope—

"Mama!"

She glanced at Lucien. He sat on his father's lap and now was staring at her. She smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair. The boy chuckled and grabbed her hand. She glimpsed at Rogue. "I just hope that he doesn't start up tonight."

"When has Dante ever not start up a damn therapy session during—

"What are you two whispering about?" The inquiry had come from Mrs. Grant.

Both siblings glanced at their mother as she sat at the head of the banquet table. The Grant matriarch stared at her children with whimsy laced in her irises. Her inquiry garnered the attentions of some of the dinner guests.

'Shit.'

Nasira's eyes quickly eyed every one before she focused on her mother. "Well…" Her eyes flickered over to Rogue, who was busy staring at their mother. An excusable lie crossed her mind. 'Payback's a bitch, bro!' With a smile tugging on her lips, she answered. "Rogue just asked me if I knew of any places in Dauntless that carries any nice rings!"

The atmosphere was abruptly filled with a series of hoarse coughing. She was gifted with a look of shock from her baby brother. She kept her eyes on their mother's face. A few seconds later, there were laughs and chortles.

A smile crossed her mother's face. Her eyes brightened. "Oh, really?!" She knocked on the wooden table.

"Congratulations, baby!" their Aunt Maggie-Ann announced, as she sat further down the table.

Rogue's bulging eyes turned to his aunt. "What?!" he shrieked. "Wha… I've never…Nev-Never…" he stammered.

Maggie-Ann's call managed to conjure up an influx of cheers and congratulations from the other dinner guests. The tent's interior was filled with boisterous positivity. It drown-out the sounds of Rogue's stammering and attempts of denial. Meanwhile, Nasira tried to control the stream of chuckling that wanted to pour out of her mouth.

Suddenly, Hexa's voice cut through the wave of accolades. "…. Nah-No-No-Nope-Nah-No! No marriage! There's no marriage going on! Nah-uh! We're not getting married!" Once she made the announcement, the raucous noise simmered down to a chorus of gentle "Oh". A sense of confusion floated through the air.

Rogue glanced at his girlfriend. "Why did you have to say it like _that_ for?"

Hexa pointed her hazel green eyes on her boyfriend. "Like, what?"

The Dauntless member swiveled his head on his neck to perform a neck-roll. In a nasal-toned, he mimicked her voice. " _We're not getting married_!" Then with his actually voice, he stated "As if marrying me was so offensive to you." There was a smattering of laughter from the table's other occupants.

Hexa giggled. "Because we're not," she informed him. "Unless… You _did_ go and buy—

"No-no-no-noooo!" he crooned. His head shook as he spoke.

Nasira heard her giggle. "I thought so."

"So what about the happy couple that is sitting next to you?"

Nasira recognized the voice. It belonged to her Aunt Maybelline, Maggie-Ann's fraternal twin. The woman was considered to the supreme gossiper in her family. When it came to information, this septuagenarian would scour the ends of the earth, if she felt the gossip was juicy enough. She was also the one relative that would nag a person until she retrieved the information that she wanted.

'Sssshhh-it! Shit-shit-shit-shit…' She stared at her aunt. She detected the sly smile on the woman's lips. Her eyes held an expression of expectance.

"When are you two guys getting hitched?"

"Yeah…"

Nasira turned away from her aunt to gaze at her oldest brother. Like their aunt, Dante also held a look of expectance.

"…When are you two guys _getting married_?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed and a blush decorated her cheeks. 'Fuck you, D. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you…'

"Y'all already—

"TRUDY, I REALLY LIKE YOUR DRESS," Hexa abruptly announced, interrupting Dante's statement.

'… Fuck you. Fuc— Oh, thank you, Hexa!' Her eyes left Dante's face and focused on his wife. The Amity woman was beaming with her bright smile and dazzling eyes.

"Ooh, thank you, Hexa!" Trudy squealed with delight. The woman looked down at the front of her dress. Her fingers touched the sparkly material. "I like it too…"

Nasira's eyes locked on Dante and their mother. They were engaged in a non-verbal conversation. Mrs. Grant was leveling her first-born with a scolding glower while Dante grew a slightly pitiful look on his face. He appeared to no longer be the fearsome, wall district leader any more. Instead, he was a little boy that was being scolded by his mother. She turned her attention back to Trudy.

"…bought this dress _today_! Nassy and I had gone to this shop—

"My friend's shop," Mrs. Grant butted in. The woman's stare turned towards the edge of the table. "Trixie!"

"Yo?!" was shouted, a second later.

A few seconds later, Nasira felt an affectionate pat on her right shoulder and then a soft breeze against her shoulders and neck. She turned her head just in time to see an ample rump whizzed by Rogue. The short and curvaceous figure strolled over to the head of the table. She took in that posterior's owner as she placed an affectionate arm around Mrs. Grant's shoulders. Trixie smiled lovingly at her best friend.

Mrs. Grant shared her own loving glance at the woman. Then she stared at the table's occupants. "This here gal…"

Trixie giggled.

"…has been my friend since we were kids—

"Which was only a _few years ago_ ," Trixie added as she batted her thick eyelashes and fluffed the hair that was at the nape of her neck.

Laughter rang out. Dante added to the fun by clearing his throat. More laughter erupted. Trixie pointed at him and gave him a fake chastising look. He snickered in response, which was a ripple in the sea of laughter.

"I've known this gal since we were school girls and we've…" Mrs. Grant glanced at her friend. "…been through some things!"

Trixie hummed in agreement, as well as, nodded her head.

"When I had Dante…" The elder Grant glanced at her son. She smiled. "…I didn't have any clue on what to do with you! I didn't have my mom to teach me. My sisters were either in Amity or were in Candor, living their own lives. For me, it felt like my pregnancy _was quick_! I remember when the doctor told me that I was pregnant and the next thing _I know_ I was pushing your chunky butt out!" There was laughter. She turned to Trixie. "But this one _here_ , she helped me!" Both women smiled. "I was eighteen at the time. I was still a child. Your father was little bit more mature about it than I was. But thank goodness that I had Trixie."

The shop owner gave her friend's shoulders an affectionate squeeze. She giggled and then smiled. "You're welcome, honey! And happy…" She bent down and gave Mrs. Grant a kiss on her right cheek. "…birthday, sweetheart!" she announced to the woman's profile.

"Thank you, honey!" Mrs. Grant swooned.

The diminutive woman looked towards Trudy. "I hope that you enjoy that dress, hon!"

The Amity woman unleashed another one of her smiles. "Thank you! And thank you again, for all of your help today."

The store owner looked towards Dante. There was a sparkle in her eyes and a sly smirk on her lips. "And I know that you will enjoy it, as well," she joked. There was a small eruption of giggles from the guests. The woman stood upright and faced the other guests. "Everybody, I hope that you have a good night!" There was a wave of well-wishes from the guests. Trixie made her way back to her seat, but not before she gave Dante a playful nudge.

The guests then turned their attentions back to their meals and to the festive environment that accompanied surrounded them. Nasira found herself giving sideway glances at her 'date' as he silently ate his meal and simultaneously fed their son.

"Oh, I love to see fathers tend to their sons!"

She stole one last glance at Eric and Lucien before she glimpsed at her Aunt Jessa, the second oldest child out of her mother's family. The older Amity woman was staring at Eric and the toddler with a toothy smile and a glow. "Most men leave all of the child-rearing up to the mothers," the woman pointed out.

Next to her, on the woman's left side, was her sister Evelyn who was nodding her head in agreement. "Plus, we had to get up and work as well—

"Men's only job was to plant the seeds while we had to take care of them," Jessa added.

"Now, now… Wait there, Jessa!" the woman's husband, Jasper, protested. He glared at his wife. "I'd helped with the kids!"

Jessa responded to his claim by doling out a hearty guffaw, which spurned laughter from the other guests.

"Oh!" Jasper grunted, feeling offended.

Nasira turned her focus to Eric. Once he felt her gazing, he stopped eating. "Please don't mind my Aunt Jessa and Uncle Jasper. They like to argue… And then make up later on. Watch, in a few hours, they will be giggling and all hugged up. I think it is an aphrodisiac for them. It would explain why they have so many damn kids."

"How…" His cornflower blues were aimed at her face. "…many kids do they have?" His eyes' aimed their focus on the elderly couple.

"Sixteen…" she casually answered. She watched Eric's face dramatically alter in a look of shock. "…just like my grandma and grandpa."

"How could anybody have so many kids in this day and age?" he said softly before taking a sip of red wine from his glass.

Nasira frowned and shrugged. "I don't know," she murmured. Her sight landed on their son. He was eating some of the morsels from his father's plate. Her sight returned to Eric. "Did you have any hopes for any children, besides Luke?" She watched her son's father glare at her.

His lips did a short-lived frown before he answered. "Yes and no. I didn't have any desires to be a father, when I was younger. But I knew that it was expected of me to have them… And no… I don't regret having him at all." His right hand did an affectionate sweep across Lucien's curls. The action caused the boy to stare up at Eric.

"Dada!" he chirped. The boy pointed and gazed at Nasira. "Mama!"

Nasira smiled. "Yes, my big boy?"

Lucien giggled. He turned his attention to the meal that was in front of him. He resumed eating.

Her eyes focused on the back of the toddler's dinner jacket. "Did you notice your son's outfit?" she asked as she reclined in her chair. Her right arm lounged on the back of Eric's chair.

Blue eyes began to dazzle with amusement. "Yes," he said to her with a smile. "It was one of the first things that I've noticed." He glanced at the velvet that graced their son's back. "You have a peculiar sense of humor, Nasira."

She chuckled. "I couldn't help it. The idea…" Her eyes scanned around the area. "…just came…" Her line of sight landed on her mother. The woman was giving her daughter a peculiar stare. 'What are you up to, woman?' She turned to Eric. "…to me."

She glimpsed at her mother again. The woman was still staring. "Woman, what—

"HELLO, PARTY PEOPLE…"

Everyone's attention turned to the tent's entrance. Shrieks of surprise penetrated the venue, as well as, squeals of excitement once their eyes landed on the sight of Malachi.

"Malachi!" Nasira excitedly shrieked.

"… Now…"

Nasira practically leapt out of her chair and performed a sprint. She traveled from her seat to where her best friend was standing. He opened his arms just in time. She ran into his embrace. Her arms wrapped around his broad torso and squeezed while his arms had done the same. She pressed her face into the breast of his leather jacket. She enthusiastically ingested all of the good-natured vibes that was coming from him.

"… The party can start!" he jokingly announced into the air. There was laughter.

Seconds later, she brought her lips to his cheek, where she gave him a kiss. "I miss you, Malachi!" she told him in his ear.

"I miss you too, Nassy," she heard him say.

In her peripheral view, she saw the tent's door open. 'Who…?'

"Oh and by the way, I… Brought along a few guests! I hope that you don't mind, everybody!" announced Malachi.

Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the two large forms, who just entered the tent. Her ears were filled with more shrieks of joy.

"MY BABIES!" she heard her mother shriek. A second later, she felt a firm push against her right side. "Oh Nassy, move out of the way!" There was laughter and a smattering of applause. Even Nasira laughed.

From over Malachi's left shoulder, she watched her elaborately-dressed mother trot over to Atlas and Pollux. Atlas was the first to receive his mother's affection. She held his face in between her hands and she squished his handsome face. She kissed his cheeks and forehead. His light brown skin was littered with red lipstick stains. His fraternal twin brother just stared and laughed at his brother's expense. Nasira observed her other brother's "assault" a minute later.

As Mrs. Grant covered Pollux's face with adoration, Goliath Junior casually entered the tent. He was in the process of fixing the collar of his shirt.

"Goliath!" her niece Cassandra chirped.

The Grant matriarch looked behind Pollux, at her other son that just entered the room. "Goliath!" she shrieked. She suddenly pushed Pollux to the side.

"Dang it, Mama!" Pollux groaned as stumbled to the side. More laughter erupted in the tent.

The older Grant woman ran over to her son. He was waiting for her. There was a huge smile on his face while his brawny arms were spread wide. The woman gleefully ran into the space that was in between them. His arms hugged their mother. His lips found a home on their mother's left temple.

"Oh, my baby!" she heard her mother rejoice.

Goliath smiled and glanced at the woman. "We wanted it to be a surprise for you!" he informed her.

Mrs. Grant chuckled. "Well, I was…"

"Oh…"

She turned away from the tender scene and focused on Malachi. He still held onto her. His sight was focused on the banquet table. There was a smirk on his lips.

"…I see that you have brought the Big Kahuna," her best friend pointed out.

She looked in the same direction. Her sight sought after Eric and their son. She found them in the same spot, in which she left them. Lucien was still eating from his father's plate while Eric was leveling the friends with a steely gaze. "Yes… He indeed had shown up for tonight. I really didn't believe that he would show up," she admitted. She turned away and stared at her friend.

"Well…" Malachi's brown eyes landed on her. "…He did." A smile grew on his lips. "And I am glad that he has proven me wrong…" His head did a slight, sideways tilt. "…In the _other things_ as well."

* * *

Her manicured fingertip pointed to an elderly woman that sat in a wheelchair, in the middle of the banquet table.

"That is my great-aunt Luna…" Nasira glimpsed at Eric. "…She is my father's aunt and the oldest person in this room. She just turned one-hundred and three, last March."

"Okay…" he hummed. His long legs were extended in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He glanced at his son's mother. "So, on your mother's side, there's sixteen kids and on your father's side, there's ten?"

She nodded her head. A delightful flush of heat touched her face just as the flattery had taken full effect. She was impressed with the fact that Eric managed to pay attention. She was well-aware that the leader wouldn't pay attention to anything unless there was an interest. "That's correct!"

"You… You've grown up in a very large family," he said in a soft voice.

Once again, she nodded her head. "So what about you? Are you from a big family?" Nasira knew the answer to her inquiry, but she wanted to see if the Dauntless leader would voluntarily reveal anything.

Eric shook his head as he stared at the revelers as they enjoyed themselves. "No… My family was pretty small…" He glared at her. "Dauntless is my family now."

She bit down on the urge to roll her eyes. 'Such a Dauntless dude-bro.' Her eyes performed a casual sweep of the dancefloor.

"Why don't you two get out on that dancefloor?"

Both pairs of eyes focused on her Aunt Eula. The woman stood on the other side of the table. "You both are sitting here, looking like two fuddy-duddies!" Eula chuckled. "I know that you two can dance. I remember seeing you two at the banquet dinner. Go on…"

"I…Um…"

"Ahh…"

Her pair of eyes focused on the pair of blue orbs. She held a confused expression on her face while he held onto one of his own.

"Oh, you two should not even be thinking about it. You need to go out there and have some fun!" reasoned Eula.

"Ah, Aunt Eula? He doesn't dance!" explained Nasira.

The older woman scoffed. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't have to pull out any Alvin Ailey dance moves! Just rock…" The woman proceeded to perform a two-step. It caused her niece to giggle. "…back and forth!" The older woman stopped dancing. "That's all!"

Nasira sighed and looked at her companion. He was staring at her. She saw the look of discomfort in his eyes. His head performed a soft shake. Her conscience whispered, 'Show him some mercy'. She gave him a soft smile. She glanced at her aunt. "We'll dance to the first slow song that—

The tent became filled with a smooth, jazzy-reggae infused tune. A wave of excited cheers floated into the air just as the festive-colored lights simmered down to a shade of orange-yellowish color.

 _"_ _I am in the wilderness_

 _You are in the music_

 _In the man's car next to me_

 _Somewhere in my sadness_

 _I know I won't fall apart completely…"_

"See?! Now, get up you two!" instructed Eula.

Both parents eyed their son, who sat on the tabletop, in front of them. His hands were ripping apart a slice of cake and stuffing the mushy, severed pieces into his mouth.

"Don't you worry about Lukie here! I'll…" Eula pulled a chair from out from underneath the table and she sat down. "…watch the baby!" With her right hand, she shoo'ed them off.

Nasira glanced at Eric from over her right shoulder. "Well?"

 _"…_ _I have a rock to cling to in the storm_

 _When no one can hear me calling…"_

Eric's left eyebrow tweaked and the pink lips slightly puckered up. His blue eyes performed a dance between Lucien and Nasira. "Alright," he sighed. He stood up from his seat and then offered a hand to help her up.

Nasira took his hand and stood up. She followed the Dauntless leader to the dancefloor. He led them pass several swaying bodies, deeper into the dancefloor. Once he was comfortable with their post, he came to a gentle halt. He gently pulled Nasira close to him. She felt his hands go to her hips. Her hands clasped his broad shoulders. Both pairs of feet began to move and their bodies began to sway to the music.

 _"…_ _And in all this_

 _And in all my life_

 _You are the lovers rock_

 _The rock that I cling to_

 _You're the one_

 _The one I swim to in a storm_

 _Like a lovers rock…"_

Unconsciously, she drew herself closer to his warm body. She allowed herself to be swallowed up in his presence. She took in the scent of his woodsy cologne and the menthol scent of his aftershave.

 _"…_ _I am in the wilderness_

 _You are in the music…"_

Her plump lips parted and she became a part of the music. She sang the lyrics, along with sade.

 _"…_ _In the man's car next to me_

 _Somewhere in my sadness_

 _I know I won't…"_

Her fingers and palms molded themselves against the back of his warm neck. Her fingernails lightly caressed his flesh.

 _"…_ _fall apart completely_

 _And in all this_

 _And in all my life…"_

Nasira took a strong whiff of his cologne. Then she buried her face into the cusp of his neck.

 _"…_ _You are the lovers rock_

 _The rock that I cling to_

 _You're…"_

A soft and vibrating motion radiated from his neck and shoulders. She caught on that he was laughing. Nasira lifted her face away from his neck. "What?" she asked.

His jaw twitched. His eyes released an alluring energy. His lips drew close to her right ear. They brushed against the hard shell of skin before drifting down to the canal's entrance. "You don't know just how bad I want to find a private room right now, just so I could fuck-the shit-out of you," growled Eric. As he confessed to her ear drum, his hands pulled on her hips, drawing her front closer to his.

Her stomach and pelvis was greeted by the hard plank that was his stomach. But her lower belly and pelvic area was also welcomed by an unrelenting hard lump. 'Oh,' her brain whimpered with slight surprise. Her eyes took in the stubble-covered flesh that was jawline. "Oh," she whimpered. Her eyes scanned his profile and finally settled on his right temple. It was during this motion, when she came up with an interesting opinion. " _You like it, when I sing to you,_ " declared Nasira with a smile on her lips.

"Grrmph!" grunted Eric, in response. He avoided eye contact with her.

' _It is!_ ' The smile was soon accompanied by a chortle. Her face slightly scrunched up. "You find my singing to be a _turn-on_!" She unleashed a squealing giggle. She hunched her shoulders and continued to giggle.

"Nasira," he growled.

The husky croon caused her arousal to wake up. She was covered in a light heatwave. Her womb performed a spasm. The giggling came to an abrupt halt. A husky gasp fell from her. She tucked her plump bottom lip into her mouth. She received a heated glare from her dance partner. He gazed into her eyes and then down to her mouth. Her sight picked up the slight curve his pink lips created. He drew his face close to her right ear.

"I see that you're not the only person, who…"

Nasira didn't finish hearing his lascivious statement. She was distracted by the sensations of hard pokes on her right shoulder. It felt like it came from a fingertip.

"Your short, munchkin friend is standing behind you," Eric's voice notified her.

"I heard that!" she heard Hexa's natural sultry voice.

The Dauntless leader unleashed a groan. Nasira chuckled softly as her hands released his shoulders. She turned around to face her friend. "What's up, Hex?!"

Hexa jerked her head towards the door. "Your family wants to see you in the living room!"

* * *

Once Nasira arrived to the living room, she noticed that her brothers, Trudy and her mother was already there. Her mother was sitting and relaxed, on the leather love seat that was facing the fireplace. Dante was resting in the massive, weathered sole recliner; a chair that used to be used by their late father. Goliath was standing by the fireplace with his right shoulder leaning against the mantel. Each twin took up space by the threshold that led into the dining room, leaning up against post. Trudy stood in the center of the living room, in front of their mother. Rogue and Trigger were sitting on the arms of the loveseat. Samson stood a few feet away from Trudy. Meanwhile, Nasira had chosen to stand in the threshold that was in between the living room and the corridor, leaning up against the post.

"So why are we in here, True?" Atlas queried.

Trudy glanced at her brother-in-law from over her right shoulder. "I want to give Mama her birthday present before the party is over and everyone goes to bed, Atlas."

"Oh! Now, I finally get…"

Nasira eyed her oldest brother.

"…to see this mysterious present that you've been working on!" Dante told his life-mate with a teasing lilt to his voice and a smile on his face. He turned his attention to their mother. "Mama, she has been working on this gift for the past three months. Whenever I would wake up in the mornings, I would find her hiding in her little shed that we have in our backyard…" He snickered. "Doing God knows what!"

Trudy stared at her common-law husband and smirked. "I was only in there, when I knew that Nova was asleep and I knew that you were there for her, in case she needed something. So… There!" she told him with her hands on her hips. "Now, ever since you have so much to say, Mister-Sir, then you can go and get the gift!"

The smile dropped from Dante's mouth and the jovial energy was sapped from his spirit. He groaned in disappointment, which was followed by a whining whimper. There was a light chuckling from Mrs. Grant. He unleashed a brusque grunt as he rolled his bottom to the edge of his seat. Before he could rise from the recliner, the second-oldest Grant boy came to his rescue.

"Don't worry about it…" Samson gazed at his brother with his hand raised. "… _Grandpa_ , I got it!" He turned to Trudy while there was more laughter penetrating the atmosphere. "True, where did you put the gift?"

"It's in the dining room," the Amity woman informed him.

Samson exited out of the living room and entered the dining room. His eyes committed a rapid perusal of the space. His attention was caught on something that Nasira couldn't see from her location. Her brother pointed towards the windows' location. "True, is this big thing in green, the gift?"

"Nassy…"

Nasira turned her attention to the caller of her name. Her sight landed on her mother, who was now staring at her. The woman looked absolutely divine in her attire, according to Nasira. Her emerald and gold, floor-length ornate kaftan stood out against the black loveseat, but it made her mother's brown skin look divine.

"…baby, what are you doing standing over there, looking you're a stranger?" the Grant matriarch jested. Her right hand gently and repetitively pat at the cushion that was unoccupied and next to her. "Come on over here and sit with me, honey-baby."

Nasira gifted her mother a smile and then pushed her ample frame from off of the doorframe. She strolled into the living room and trekked toward into her mom's location. As she walked pass Rogue, there was a short prick sensation on the right hip, right underneath the fleshy fat. 'What-the…?'

"Ooh Nassy, you're getting a little bit of fa—

Before Rogue could finish his statement, Nasira gave the sensitive space that was in between his shoulder blades, a firm slap. The heavy-handed strike caused a harsh 'thump' noise to erupt, upon impact. The youngest child out of the Grant brood grimaced while a pain-identifying hiss fell from in between his clenched jaw. His body flinched and his back concaved.

"Ah-Ow!" he groaned.

"You two, don't start up" their mother warned the youngest children.

"Owwww…" Rogue glanced at their mother. "Mommy, did you just…?

Nasira glanced at her brother with fire in her eyes. "Butthole," she muttered under her breath.

"…did?!"

"Um, I just _saw_ you pinch your sister, Rogue. Now, don't start anything that you cannot finish! You know this!" their mother told him. She glimpsed at Nasira. "Come on baby, have a seat."

"You still hit like a girl," Rogue tossed to his sister's back.

"You still act like an immature ass," she muttered as she walked away.

"Enough, you two!" their mother warned them, again.

Nasira took the seat that was next to her mother, on the loveseat and next to Trigger while he sat on the sofa's armrest. The top of her left kneecap was quickly subjected to a gentle hold from her mother's hand. The warmth and the strength behind that hand provided a security that was powerful. It was the kind of security that only a mother could provide. She looked away from the hand and to her mother's profile. The older Grant woman was staring at her other children as they stood around the living room. Nasira used this time to observe her mother. The mother appeared to be in high spirits, which her daughter felt thankful for. She knew that her mother was going through a tough battle with her current chemotherapy sessions. She knew that it was futile in asking her mother about how she truly felt from those appointments. She was well-aware that her mother wouldn't tell her, or even her brothers, about the aches and pains that she felt. Nasira was happy that her mother was able to keep up with the occurrences that happened tonight, at the party. She recalled the moments in which she caught her mother dancing on the dancefloor with the guests, her sons and with her grandchildren. She was extremely grateful for this night.

"Are you enjoying yourself…" She briefly glimpsed at Samson as he emerged from the dining room. Her eyes took in the large gift-wrapped package that he was carrying in his hands. She glanced at her mother. "…Mommy?"

Mrs. Grant further settled into her seat. She stared at her daughter. "Yeah!" she stated with enthusiasm. "I'm having a wonderful time!" Her right arm draped itself along the back of the loveseat. Her slightly-tired eyes focused on her daughter. "Are _you_ having a good time?"

Nasira leaned back with a "Yes, ma'am" spilling from her lips.

"Trudy, what-in the-hell did you buy?!" Trigger asked with awe and humor in his tone.

"I didn't buy it! I made it!" Trudy told him. She looked towards Samson, who was walking into the center of the living room. "Sammy, honey, you're going to have to put that on the floor, in front of Mama, so she could see it."

"Alright," he grunted. He carried the festively-decorated product over to the loveseat, where his mother and sister sat. He gently introduced the item to the carpeted floor despite the fact that the gift was heavy.

Trudy stood on his left side and she peered at the package, inspecting it. "Yeah, it's backwards. Sammy, can you turn the—

"Yeah, I got it," he told her, before he proceeded to turn the box around.

Nasira eyed the decorative covering that kept the gift shrouded in mystery. The wrapping paper was made from multi-colored cloth, which was held together in black stitching. There was a dark green-colored, silk ribbon wrapped around the gift.

"You got it?" asked Trudy, as she watched Samson like a protective mother.

"Yyyeeeeaaaa-Yup!" he announced as he maneuvered the package. A few seconds later, Samson presented their mother with a large elaborate gift bow.

"Ooh…That's pretty," murmured Nasira.

"Mmm-hmm," her mother hummed as she observed the gift. A few milliseconds later, the sound of a sharp inhalation sliced through the air. "Wait," she softly gasped. Her right pointer finger focused on the package. She stared at Trudy. "Trudy? Is… Is that an Amity quilt that in being used as wrapping—

"Uh-huh!" the woman hummed as she enthusiastically nodded her head.

Mrs. Grant unleashed a celebratory 'whoop' in response. Her reaction made Nasira, Trigger and Rogue flinch in their seats. The woman proceeded to clap her hands in celebration. "I HAVE AN AMITY QUILT!" she yelped. She clapped a few more times. "I have an Amity quilt!" She began to dance in her seat. "I-have a-quilt! I-have a-quilt! I-have a-quilt!" she sang as she wiggled. Her reactions caused laughter amongst her children and her daughter-in-law.

"I didn't make the quilt, Mama" Trudy explained her, as the laughter simmered down. "I don't have the talent to make them. I asked a friend's mother to make this for me…" She glimpsed at the quilt. "I hope that you like it."

"From what I can see, I already love it, baby" Mrs. Grant told her.

Nasira noticed the glow that erupted throughout Trudy's face, neck and collarbone. She knew that the Amity woman felt proud, at that moment.

"Mama, do you want me to unwrap your gift?" queried Samson as he gazed at the front of the gift.

"Mmmmm-hmm! Baby, when you finish, pass me my quilt," she told him. The living room was filled with laughter.

Trudy and Samson proceeded to unwrap the package. Trudy was the person who untied the large bow while Samson removed the ribbon from off of the package. Then they proceeded to unwrap the quilt. Once the box was freed, Samson handed the quilt off to his sister-in-law, who passed the item off to Mrs. Grant. The woman happily accepted the article.

She giggled like a happy child with a delectable treat. She gathered handfuls of the thick linen and she proceeded to sniff at the quilt. "Mmmmm…" she delightfully groaned into the fabric. She pulled the item away. "Oh, I love the smells that are always on these quilts! It is one of the things that I love and miss about Amity! Here…" The woman held in the blanket in front of her daughter's face. "…Smell this," she instructed.

The younger Grant woman sniffed at the metallic, multi-colored fabric. Her nostrils flared as the scent of cut cedar wood wafted up into her nasal cavities. She pulled away. "It smells like cedar wood," she told her mother.

"Yeah." Her mother sniffed again. "For this one, the woman that made this quilt must've kept this in a cedar chest after she was finished with it. It had to be kept in there for over at least a month. That's one of the things that make Amity quilts special. It's the smell." She had taken another whiff of the quilt. "The… Ah, quilts' creators… What they do with the finished quilts is, add their special touch to them. I know some people leave their finished ones in wooden chests. Some would leave them on a clothesline, outside, so they could end up smelling like the outdoors. But, most quilt-makers smoke out their projects."

"Smoked out? What's that?" inquired Nasira, totally enraptured with the cultural lesson that her mother was giving.

"It's when they place quilts in a room—It could be a spare bedroom or even an unused bathroom—and they fill the room up with burning incense. It could be any kind of incense. The most popular is Nag Champa and Patchouli, but it's up to the person. I know a lot of people use fragrances that remind them of their loved ones. But like I said before, it's up to the person. They usually keep the quilts in the rooms for more than a week. They only go into those rooms to add more burning incense."

Both women paused in their conversation to take a gander at Trudy and Samson. They were still in the process of stripping the gift from its packaging. The Grant brother was attempting to pry the left cardboard flap from off of the box.

"This is such a pretty quilt," Mrs. Grant declared.

Nasira glanced down at the quilt's surface. Her mother's slender fingers observed the surface. It was indeed a pretty quilt, she agreed. It was a patchwork quilt, which comprised of patches of fabric that were emerald-green, metallic oranges and yellows, as well as, brown patches. Each patch was held together by black thread.

"I've never seen a quilt like this before," her mother told her. "Not with this kind of material."

"Well, it is a special quilt that was made for a special lady," Nasira simply stated.

Mrs. Grant smiled and grasped her hand. "Thank you, baby." She saw her daughter give her a head nod. She glimpsed at the sight of the gift-unwrapping process.

"Ummmm, Trudy?" Samson chuckled, showing his sense of unease. "What kind of glue did you use for this box?"

"I put…" Trudy placed her hands on her hips.

Trigger lifted off of the loveseat's armrest. "What's wrong, _old man_? You can't open a box?" he taunted. He continued to stand.

"…some glue on the flaps to keep it close," the woman informed him.

"Well…" chuckled Samson. "…shit, this some tough-ass glue!"

Rogue stood up and approached the scene. "Let me try," he suggested. He gave Samson's left shoulder a hearty tap. "Alright Hercules, let me try."

"Alllllll-alright," murmured Samson. He let go off of the box's flap and allowed his baby brother to take the helm.

Mrs. Grant turned her attention back to her daughter. "When you were a baby…"

Nasira looked away from the potential-hilarity that appeared to be unfolding and she stared at her mother. She noticed that her mother held a soft smile and an all-knowing glare in her eyes.

"…I think you had to be around one, you had managed to make a friend. It was a piece of fabric from one of my old quilts. It wasn't a favorite one of mine, which was why it was so tattered. You used to carry that fabric…"

As the woman spoke, Nasira was subjected to a snapshot of memory. It was a fragmented recollection that involved a scrap of fabric being dragged across a hardwood floorboard.

"…around with you all—

"Was it dark purple with green…" Her mother's smile deepened and her head nodded. "…gingham on it?"

"Yes! Yes. You remember it?" her mother cheerfully gasped.

"I only remember one thing. I was dragging it around," Nasira reported.

"Yes!" her mother stated as she pat Nasira's hand. "Yes. Oh honey, you used to take that piece of quilt everywhere: to the park, to my office, to _your dad's_ office and even when you had your baths. You made sure that you had your friend with you, every-single-time." Mrs. Grant chuckled. "Eventually, your quilt had gone from being the size of a towel to the size of a napkin, due to all of the 'wear-and-tear'. You had it for about a year before I thought of the most _brilliant_ idea of throwing it away."

"Why?"

"You were at the point when you stopped carrying it around. So, I foolishly thought you were done with it. Then you began to look for it. When you couldn't find it, you began to cry and cry for it. I felt _so guilty_ and so bad for you! Especially, on one day. You cried yourself to sleep, for your nap. You woke up and realized that you didn't have your friend. I came in here to wake you up and I found you…" Mrs. Grant pointed to the location of the doorway that led to the dining room, to the corner that was several feet behind Pollux's location. "… _crying_ in that corner. You looked so sad. You had your hands covering your face and your tiny head bowed." She faced the ceiling. "Oh!" She rolled her eyes. She glanced at her daughter with a somber smile on her lips. "I felt so bad for you. But your father, on the other hand, he felt _worst_!" She pursed her lips. "He was so _mmmmaaaaadd_ at me for doing that to you. He wasn't even that mad at me, when I had your ears pierced, when you were a baby." She giggled. "After he read me the riot act, he came up with a plan. He waited until you had fallen asleep that night and he had gone all-the-way to Amity. He knew someone _that knew someone-that knew someone-that knew someone_ who made quilts. He bought you another quilt. He had made a late-night trip to Amity, just so he could buy you another _Henry_."

Nasira's brown crumpled in confusion. "Henry?"

Mrs. Grant performed a curt head nod. "Yup. That was your friend's name: Henry. And your dad drove all-the-way to Amity to get you another Henry. He found you another one. It looked like the one you had from before. Before he came back, he tore it up, just like the other one. You were so happy, when she saw Henry. I…" She placed a hand to her chest. "…on the other hand, was in the dog-house for an entire week." Both mother and daughter laughed. Once the laughter died down, she said, "Your father would've done anything for you kids, especially for his… _Pumpkin Pie_!"

Hearing the old pet name caused a blush to kiss upon her cheeks.

"Your father believed that you saved his life, you know," Mrs. Grant murmured.

A deep frown approached her brow. The statement served as a revelation for her. It was something that she would've never expected to come from her mother's mouth. "What do you mean, Mom?"

"Well, brace your virgin ears, sweetheart…"

Nasira rolled her eyes. 'Oh Lordy, what is she going to tell me now?'

"…you were conceived…"

Nasira bit into her bottom lip while her ears grew hot. 'Oh God,' her brain groaned.

"…a few months after your father was released from captivity. It was at that point, where I thought that our marriage wouldn't last. He was so withdrawn and depressed. I…" She paused. Resistance graced her face. She took a deep breath and pressed on. "I honestly believed that he was going to kill himself…"

Shock ran through the younger Grant woman as her eyes bulged.

"…Yeah, I believed it. Several of the survivors had committed suicide by that time," she explained. "I… I attended so many funeral services at that time. I had to console so many grieving widows and children. That pyre remained lit for so long that you would've thought that it was a giant torch. So yeah, I thought that your father was going to be one of them." She coughed to clear her throat. "Your father was severely depressed. He stayed in our bedroom. He wouldn't talk to me or to anybody else. He didn't even talk and played with your brothers. He was… so far gone, baby." She deeply inhaled and exhaled. She smiled at her daughter. "So when that night happened, it gave me hope. Lots and lots of hope. I believed that it gave me some insight about our future together. Then, I found out about _you_. I told your dad about it and he didn't react to the news. _However_ , over the course of my pregnancy, he began to make changes in his behavior. He started to leave the bedroom and spend time with us. He began to talk to your brothers and to me. Then, over time, he left the house. He started to attend therapy, both in Amity and here in Dauntless. Then…" She chuckled. "…You were born…" She laughed some more. "You were his baby, once I came home from the hospital. He took care of you, most of the time. I didn't mind. I was able to take care of your brothers and the house. He didn't tell me about the 'life-saving' thing until the day before your Amity trip."

"Got-damn, Trudy!" exclaimed Rogue. His hands tried to rip at the left flap. "How much glue—In fact, what _kind_ of glue did you use?"

"It was the glue that was in our garage," the young woman claimed.

"Trudy, the only glue that's in there is the furniture glue!" informed Dante. Pollux, Goliath and Atlas cackled to the ceiling.

"No wonder this shit is hard to get open!" Rogue looked behind. "Can one of you go to the kitchen and get me a knife?"

Samson proceeded to exit the living room, when Goliath stopped them. "Sammy, I have one," he announced as he pulled his blazer's left lapel away from his broad chest. His right hand dipped into the jacket's interior. Seconds later, he withdrew a large hunting knife. He handed the weapon to his brother.

Samson ogled the large blade and unleashed a wolf-whistle. "Whoa," he uttered in both awe and surprise. He held the handle with a tight grip and he observed the serrated, silver blade. "This knife is as big as you…" He glanced at Goliath. "…G!" In response, he gave Samson a playful slap on the back of his head. He chuckled as he approached his baby brother and his sister-in-law. He walked to Rogue's side. "Move out…" He slapped the brother on his shoulder. "…of the way, Rookie!"

"Man, what…?" Rogue turned his head and came face-to-face with the blade of Goliath's hunting knife. His eyes widened and bulged with shock while his body jolted into an upright position. "What-the-hell?!" His eyes darted from his brother's face to his knife-wielding hand. "Where-in the-hell did you get that big-ass knife from?!" There was laughter.

Chuckling, the second-oldest Grant brother gave the youngest one a glimpse before he bent over to the box.

"It's G's knife, Rookie," answered Trigger, chuckling.

Rogue looked over to Goliath, from over his right shoulder. "Damn, G! Where did you get that from?!" He watched his older brother wave his hand at him. "Did you find it in a forest and inside of a large stone? Did a woman that lived in a lake tell you to take it?" The volume to the laughter increased.

Still laughing, Mrs. Grant pressed on. "What your father said to me, occurred two nights before the day of your aptitude test. We were…" She glanced at the ceiling and then she returned her gaze to her daughter. "…upstairs in this very house. We were lying in bed and we were talking like we usually did, at night and before we had gone to sleep. We were talking about you. He was so happy for you, but he was sad about the occasion. He was going to miss you. I knew this. I knew this way before he said anything. Then, it was then when he told me that you saved his life. He told me that once he learned that you existed, he knew that he needed to _'_ _shape up'_. His words, not mine. He told me that he had to keep on living…"

Samson used the serrated edge of Goliath's hunting knife to saw through the thick layer of glue.

"…for you. For the boys, he felt that they already knew that he was a good man, so they could dispute any possible disparaging claims that could've been made about him. But with you? He knew that it would've been better to show you just how much of a good father that he was," the Grant matriarch declared.

"Well," she sighed as her father's smiling face flashed across her mind's eye. Her heart raced. A somber smile had taken over her face. "I'm glad that he did make that decision. And he did show me how much of a great man that he was. I was blessed to have had him as my dad."

Both women quietly observed the Grant siblings attempt to open the cardboard box.

"She did use an awful amount of glue on that box, didn't she?" their mother said softly. Her daughter erupted in giggles. "Well, she did!"

A pair of dark brown-colored eyes focused on the quilt that lain across her mother's lap. She stared at the multiple patches. "Mom?"

"Mmm, baby?" she heard her mother say.

"What's the deal with you and quilts? For the longest time, you always had a fascination with them."

"Well, it's a pastime of mine that I've picked up, when I was a little girl. When I was a child, collecting quilts was one of those things that us girls did. We also used the quilts as a way of proving our social hierarchy in our schoolhouse. Along with our dolls, the quilts were something that we used to brag about, because it was a way of saying that our families had money. At the time, I so desperately wanted to prove to my classmates that my family came from money. So I asked my mother so many times to make a quilt for me. At first, she said 'No' because she didn't have the money to buy the supplies. At the time, there were nine of us and we were living 'hand-to-mouth' and was almost eating scraps. So I waited until my eleventh birthday and I asked her again. My mom promised me that she would see what she could do. My birthday comes and…" A toothy smiled erupted on her face. "…I got my quilt!" She eyed her daughter. "I got my quilt! It was so beautiful! And it was mine! My mom asked a friend of hers to make it for me. It had everything that I loved on it: giraffes, the poppy fields, my mother's maternity markings, the wheat fields, the sun, roses and hydrangeas. There were pretty peacock feathers stitched on the borders. It even had my name stitched on it. Everything that I've wanted and loved was on there!"

Nasira blushed with excitement as she listened to her mother. It was as if she was watching an adult gradually change into a child. "Mommy, do you still have the quilt?" she asked.

The light that danced in Mrs. Grant's eyes abruptly died out. The smile was extinguished. She shook her head. Then she softly said, "No". She glimpsed away. "No. A classmate of mine by the name of Penny Darling…" She glanced at Nasira. "…Yes, that is actually her name. She, uh, wanted my quilt. I had taken it to school to show off to my friends and she saw it. She wanted it. It was different than any other quilt that was out there and she wanted it. Penny…" Her fingers scratched at the back of her neck. "…was a popular girl and her family was rich. They owned several properties throughout Amity and some in Candor, as well. So that was one of the main reasons why she was so popular." She huffed. "One night, my dad came home, in a red-hot rage." She glanced down at her lap. Her lips pursed and a grimace touched her brow. "I remember it was your Aunt Eula, Evie, Persephone and Cecily who tried to keep my dad from taking my quilt from out of my bedroom. He managed…" A frown discolored her lips. "…to fight them off. He took it. I begged him…" She inhaled. "…I begged him and begged him and begged him." She gazed into her daughter's eyes. "He sold it to Penny's father for twenty-three credits," she confessed.

"Oh… Mommy," she whimpered.

"Penny… She had asked her mother for a quilt that was just like mine. I guess her mom must've asked around Amity about it and word had got back to my dad. The old man being the bastard that he was, saw a potential profit."

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"Finally!" Rogue bellowed in triumph after the final flap was ripped away. His hands were raised in the air in victory. A giggling Trudy gave his chest a playful pat.

Samson stuck his fingers in between the flaps and the box's interior, to push the flaps from out of the way. A waterfall of Styrofoam, packing peanuts spilled out of the box and onto the floor.

"Trudy was not playing, when it came to packing up this gift!" Trigger joked, chuckling.

"I wanted to make sure that it didn't get broken!" she whined. Her tone caused Dante and the twins to laugh.

Nasira and Mrs. Grant stared at Samson as he continued to uncover the gift. He lain the bottom of the box down to the floor. His hands delved into the large structure and forced the gift to stand upright. A Styrofoam wrap was around the gift. Samson's fingers clawed at the white wrapping. Bits of the gift were being exposed to the family's eyes with every swipe of his hands.

Meanwhile, Rogue collapsed on the recliner's armrest, next to Dante, in the middle of a laughing fit.

'Wood… Wood…' She detected wood that was smoothed out and polished with dark varnish. '…Wood… Woo—Picture. It's a picture frame. I know what it is…'

A millisecond later, she was greeted by a pair of familiar eyes. They were staring at hers with a brightness that could only come from joy. More of the very fine layer of paper was ripped away from the product. Her mother's smiling faces came into view. In fact, there were several smiling faces.

'I was right,' she concluded as she eyed the multi-photo, picture frame.

"What is it?" she heard Dante say.

"It's a picture frame," answered Trigger. "It has pictures of Mama and of us." There were murmurs of awe.

Mrs. Grant pointed to the frame. "Samson… Rogue… Can you please put the picture on the fireplace, so everyone can see it?" she instructed.

"Okay, Mama."

"Yes, Mama."

Samson bent over and grabbed the right side of the frame. Rogue walked over to the left side and grabbed the base. Both men simultaneously picked up the large pictured frame and carried it over to the fireplace. Trigger, Atlas and Pollux joined them, to help with the mounting process. The five Grant siblings performed the task. Once the frame was mounted, they stepped away from the fireplace. But their eyes were focused on the photos.

"I… I wanted to make you something that I knew that you would appreciate," Trudy commented, disrupting the silence that wafted through the room.

"How did you get these pictures, Trudy?" queried Trigger as he slowly made steps towards the fireplace again. His eyes still stared at the photos.

"Raquel," answered Trudy. "When I told her my idea, she was down for it. She knew where your mother kept her photos' negatives. I asked her to snatch them up for me."

Nasira surveyed their mother as she traveled from the couch to the fireplace. On her way, she gave each son an affectionate touch to their shoulders before she passed them. She stood in front of her fireplace and she observed the frame.

A minute of silence passed before there was an audible gasp of surprise. Everyone looked towards the woman that was standing in front of the fireplace.

"You put…" She had fallen silent just as her fingers touched at the right corner of the frame. She glanced at Trudy. "You put a peacock on the frame."

'What?' Nasira stood up and then slowly made her way over. She stopped a few feet in front of the fireplace and took her place in between Rogue and Trigger.

"Yeah, there's one more!" Trudy pointed out. "I also added some flowers…" She approached her mother-in-law's right side. "…and some wheat fields and the sun."

Mrs. Grant eyed her gift again. Her fingertips touched at the carvings that were on the wood of the frame.

Nasira took her eyes off of her mother and she found herself staring at the pictures. Trudy managed to pick the right photos for the frame. Each photograph represented her mother at various ages of her life. When she was a young and smiling initiate and when she was a smiling student in her schoolyard. There were snapshots that recognized her as a wife and a mother. She recognized the younger versions of her brothers and herself.

"Oh, I forgot!" blurted out Trudy.

All eyes landed on the woman. She quickly turned away and frolicked into the dining room.

"I also… Have gifts… For every… One!" she announced while she was occupied in the other room.

When she returned, she was holding onto a large stack of gift boxes. She walked over to her husband. "D., this first one belongs to you," she told him. After he plucked his off of the top, she walked over to Goliath. "G., this one is for you, dear." She asked him to take his gift, which he obliged.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome," she chirped. She approached the twins and told them to take their boxes. She approached Nasira. "Nassy," she simply stated.

"Thanks," she murmured as she plucked the decorative gift box from off of the stack.

She watched her sister-in-law pass off the remaining boxes. The young mother returned to her seat at the loveseat. She placed the bottom of the box on her firm thighs. Her fingers slipped in between the cover and the box. They pushed the lid from off of the cardboard bottom to reveal her gift.

'Oh,' her brain whimpered as her surprise warmed her body.

Her sight landed on the presence of a framed photograph. Her dark brown eyes took a quick observation at the doppelganger that was mounted on the mantel piece. She glanced back down at the personal keepsake that was on her lap.

It was a photograph that was unfamiliar for her eyes. It was a picture that showcased an intimate moment between her mother and an infant version of herself. Both mother and daughter were staring at the camera's focal lens, as they lain in bed. They were in the midst of laughing. She assumed that her father must've been acting silly during the time that the photo was snapped. Her attention was drawn to the woman that was in the background. She believed that her mother still resembled that woman in the picture, except her features became more refined.

"Oh honey."

It was spoken in a hushed tone, but it was loud with sympathy and warmth.

Nasira looked away from the photograph and stared into the direction, in which her ears picked up the call. She focused on the married couple, who occupied the leather recliner. The wife had her left arm draped over husband's brawny shoulders. Her face was dipped forward and close to her husband's right ear. Her lips were unleashing a steady stream of hushed words into his ear. Her husband, on the other hand, kept his face hidden from everyone's view. His right hand held onto a wooden photo frame while his left hand cradled his scalp. Both appendages gave off a steady tremble.

"Bruh, you alright?"

Nasira glanced away from Trudy and Dante to stare at Trigger. There was an expression of concern on his face. Her awareness lifted away the veil of sweet nostalgia that clouded her judgement. A deep shudder ran down her back as she finally took note of the tension that filled up the room.

"Yo, Dante? Are you alright, man?" Pollux asked his eldest brother.

"Ah…D.?" This time, it was Rogue.

"Hey Dante, man, are you alright?" questioned Samson.

All three brothers received the answer to their inquiries, when a sorrow-soaked cry fell from their oldest brother. Nasira slowly rose from her seat as she gazed at the large man, with widened eyes and a slightly parted mouth. Her spirit was overcome with shock. It was something that she never expected from him. She has never witnessed her big brother cry or express sorrow. He was never vulnerable around them. In fact, he was considered to the emotional rock for every one of them.

"Dante, baby," their mother announced. The older woman had taken steps in the direction of the chair.

The eldest Grant son continued to cry. His sister could only watch as his bulky body trembled from the grief that he felt.

"Dante, I know that you're afraid, baby" Mrs. Grant told her first-born. She had taken a few more steps towards him. "And I know that you are also angry about how things are turning out…" She nodded her head. "And you know what? I am too, baby. I am angry for this cancer and I am terrified because of it…" She approached the left arm of the plush recliner. "…I am afraid that I won't see any more grandchildren…" She glimpsed at Rogue. She smiled and pointed her left index finger at him. "…and Rogue marrying that gal of his."

There was light laughter, which was caked with sadness.

"I want you guys to promise me something," the older woman said to her children. She eyed every one of them before she resumed speaking. "When I go—

"Mama, don't you say…"

"Mom, you're not going anywhere."

"Ma, stop."

The Grant matriarch raised her right hand in the air, a request for silence. A tight-lipped smile graced her face. "When I go…" She cleared her throat. "When I go, I want you guys to do what you feel. You hear me?" Her eyes glimpsed at her children. "If you feel like crying, then I want you to cry. If you feel angry to the point where you want to punch a wall, then go ahead… And punch at a _sparring bag_." She lightly chuckled. "I also want you guys to promise me that you will always stay close with each other. Call each other and talk and listen to each other. Continue with our monthly family dinners, together. I don't want y'all to scatter into the winds and only get together for weddings, holidays and funerals."

A silence had fallen through the living room. The jovial, but muffled sounds from the festive venue seeped through the walls and window panes. With every passing second, the tension became thicker. It made Nasira's skin pucker up with goose pimples and her stomach to tremble.

"I want you guys to promise me," their mother stated.

"I promise, Mama."

Nasira glanced at Rogue, who was staring at their mother. His amber-brown eyes were glossy due to the unshed tears. His usual glowing face was dimmed.

"I promise, Ma." It was from Samson, who was gazing at the floor. His left hand still held onto the gift as his arm softly swayed.

"I promised… Mom," Goliath softly said as he leaned against the fireplace.

"Promise, Mom," murmured Pollux.

A millisecond later, Atlas followed his brother with a "I promise, too."

Trigger sighed. "I…" He paused. He deeply exhaled. "I promise, Mama. I promise you."

Suddenly, there were eight pairs of eyes on her. Each person held a look of expectation on their faces. Nasira eyed each person as a build-up of grief filled up her throat. "I promise, Mom" her voice croaked. Her eyelids developed a stinging sensation. She sniffled.

"Mom, I…"

Nasira had to get away. "Excuse me," she murmured before taking her exit out of the living room. She heard Trigger call out her name as she stepped into the corridor. She had chosen to ignore her brother's call. Her feet led her down the corridor, in the direction of the kitchen. Instead of entering the room, she veered into the hallway that was built on the right.

She needed to get away and she knew which place to go.

* * *

A pair of unsure footsteps filling up the entryway was the sign that alerted her that she had company. Her slightly swollen eyes peeped at the office's entrance. A pair of bluish-gray eyes were focused on her.

"Hey," she weakly greeted, along with a sniffle.

Eric responded with his own thinned out "Hey".

His eyes scanned her late father's office before he entered the room. "So, this is Tahiti," he stated as he strolled up to her.

Nasira glanced at the wall that was facing her. More tears rolled down her face. "How do you know about Tahiti?" she inquired as her fingers wiped at the wetness on her cheeks.

"Your father referred to it, from time to time" he casually answered. "I didn't know what-in the-hell he was talking about, the first few times he said it. Eventually, I did ask him about it and he told me that this was the place that he comes to, when he needs to be alone."

She sniffled. "Yeah, it was his private place," she told him. She listened to his footsteps as he continued to walk into her location.

"I just talked to your mother," he informed her.

"Mmm," she hummed as she eyed the various bric-a-bracs that were on the wall.

"She told me about your… _Thing_ that happened in the living room," he reported to her. The sounds of his footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

She felt his body's heat and energy stand on her right side. Having his presence near her, provided some comfort. Her eyes glimpsed at his legs. "What did she say?"

A sharp inhale fell from his nostrils. Just as he exhaled, the faction leader responded with, "She told me that she asked you guys to give her a promise".

'That sounds about right,' she silently mumbled.

"She also made me promise her something."

Her eyes landed their sight on his face. "What did she say?"

"She asked me to promise her that I will look after you, despite what is going on between us," he confessed.

Her eyes slightly widened as shock ran through her. "She… She did?"

"Yeah, she did," he sighed as he sat next to her, on the sofa. He leaned back and lounged against the back of his seat. His long arms stretched out along the surface. "But she didn't need to ask me. I already had every intention of looking after you, Nasira. Your mother doesn't have to worry about that one," he notified her.

Nasira glanced over her right shoulder, at Eric. "Thank you." A second later, she felt his hand capture her right shoulder with a comforting grasp.

"No problem," he muttered. His capturing hand gave her shoulder a firm yank, a silent order for her to rest against his side.

She sighed as she pressed her back against the pillow-soft cushion that lined the back of the couch. Her head instinctually rested on Eric's broad shoulder. The faction leader followed his own instincts by drawing his left arm around her shoulders and neck. With a hearty exhale coming from each of them, both parents sat in a cozy silence.

After a moment of listening to the ticks from a wall mounted clock, she had broken the streak by asking, "Who's watching Luke?"

"Your Aunt Eula," informed Eric, before he began to tantalize the hard flesh that made up her ear. His fingertip traced the outer curve to the cartilage, causing ripples of pleasure to explode in her face. It also sent messages of security and warmness to her brain. He continued to speak as he played. "When I left him, he was scarfing down his second slice of cake."

'What?!' A shot of adrenaline ran through her. Her eyes bulged just as her head lifted off of his shoulder. She gave her companion a scolding look. " _Eric_ ," she groaned.

A smirk crossed his lips. "What?" he said with a bit of jovialness. His lips briefly frowned up. "It's his birthday," he reasoned.

"Yeah, but he's gonna be jacked-up on sugar," she explained.

"Oh, he is going to be fine," Eric counterpointed. "It just two… _Thin_ slices of cake."

"He's going to be up all night, tonight," she further explained. She placed her head back on his shoulder. "I should make him go home with you tonight. So, you could deal with his sugar-high," she said softly.

Eric chuckled. "You know that I wouldn't mind it," he muttered.

She sighed. "I appreciate you for coming all-the-way out here to celeb…" Her voice trailed off and a hearty yawn from her mouth. "Celebrate with us."

"Mmm," he hummed. "No problem. I wasn't going to miss this."

She smiled. She heard the excitement in his tone.

A moment later, her body attempted to snuggle closer to his larger one. She released a warm, cozy and vibrating sensation. She sighed and allowed herself to be lulled into a state of sleepiness, by his teasing fingertips.

"We have…"

A spike of mild adrenaline shot through her veins. Her eyes fell open and focused their fuzzy glare at the wall. "Mmm?"

"…to head down to Erudite…" A hearty yawn fell from him. "To the hall…" He deeply inhaled. "Of records."

"Mmm. Oh-kay," she sleepily moaned as she settled deeper into her seat. Without the aid of her hands, her feet kicked off her shoes. She placed her limbs on the couch and drew them close to the rest of her body.

"I want him to have my last name," he murmured.

"I want him to have it… Too," she mumbled before falling deeper into the abyss that was her slumber.

* * *

"—ood time tonight, Davina!"

Davina Grant smiled at her former neighbors, David and Margaret Howell. "I am happy that you two had a good time tonight! I've also seen you two on that dancefloor," she giggled.

Mr. Howell chuckled. "Yeah well, I haven't taken my girl out in some time now, so I had to make it up somehow!"

"You got that right, you old coot!" his wife chuckled.

All three adults laughed.

"Well I am glad," the guest of honor told them both.

"It would be impolite of us to not ask you about your birthday. Did you enjoy it?" queried Mrs. Howell.

Mrs. Grant nodded her head. "Yes, yes I did. Everybody that I wanted to be here was here, including _all_ of my kids. That's all I wanted for tonight."

The older couple smiled. "And that's all that matters," Mr. Howell told her. He looked towards his wife. "Alright Ma, it's time for us to go home," he announced.

His wife giggled. "Okay, _Pa_!"

Mrs. Grant chuckled. "Have a good night, Mr. and Mrs. Howell."

"Goodnight," both husband and wife announced before turning away from Mrs. Grant.

The ambassador surveyed the elderly couple as they strolled towards the tent's exit. She watched Mr. Howell hold the door open for his wife, who giggled and affectionately patted her husband's cheek as she exited. He followed, seconds later.

"Hey, Ma!" she heard Trigger call out, from behind her.

She turned around and eyed him, as well as, the company that was following him. She smiled and felt warm, after she remembered spotting the familial-type of bonding that had gone on between the Orland children and her son, as well as, with his long-time girlfriend. She watched her son play-spar with the oldest Orland boy while Raquel spent time with the youngest three children. Davina knew that the long-time would make excellent parents to their own children or to the Orland kids, or perhaps both. She watched the party of six approach her. Raquel carried a sleeping Tristan in her arms while the oldest three animatedly walked and talked.

Harvest glanced at Davina and a smile developed on his face. He began to run for the last four feet, into her direction. She chuckled and spread her arms apart, waiting for his impending embrace. Once he was close, he wrapped his arms around her thighs.

"Oh, my handsome and beautiful boy!" she cheered as she hugged him back. His laughter caused her heart to pound, in the same manner in which all of her grandchildren's laughter cause her to feel.

Harvest lifted his head from off of her legs and he glanced at her. With a smile on his face, he said, "Thank you for inviting me to your party!"

"Oh…" she happily yelped. She cupped his cheeks with her hands and she smiled down at him. "…you are so very welcomed, my dear!" she told him before doling out a kiss to his forehead.

"Ma…"

"Mmm, Trigger?" she hummed as she glimpsed at her son.

"We're going to take the kids home now, so if we don't see you when we come back, have a goodnight," he told her.

She released Harvest's face and she stood upright. "Alright," she hummed as she gave the boy a comforting pat on his back. Once the child released his hold on her legs, she approached Gabriel. "Well…" She placed her hands on his shoulders as she eyed her son. "…I know that you and Raquel are going to go back to the city as soon as possible…" She pecked the boy's forehead. She ruffled his curly hair with her hand as she smiled at him. She approached Trigger. "…So, have a safe trip…" She stood on her tippy-toes and gave a peck on the cheek. "…One of y'all text me, when you arrive home."

"Alright, Ma. Will do," confirmed Trigger.

The older woman approached Ixa. She wrapped her arms around the girl's lanky frame. The teen happily embraced the woman. "Before you go, tell Rogue to bring these kids back to the house around noon, I'll make them some late-breakfast…" She glanced into Ixa's eyes. "…How does pancakes sound?" The children cheered and agreed. Mrs. Grant laughed. "Then, pancakes, it is!" She glanced at Ixa. "Have a goodnight, my beautiful dear."

The girl sheepishly smiled. "Have a goodnight, Mrs. Grant. And Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you, sweetheart," the woman told her before giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Grant. Happy Birthday," Gabriel announced.

"Thank you, my darling."

"Happy Birthday, Mrs. Grant" Harvest declared.

Davina bent over again and planted a kiss on his cheek. The boy chuckled. "Thank you, honey. You have a good night, you hear?"

"You too, ma'am" the little boy told her.

She stood upright and approached Raquel. "Alright, you have a good night, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Mama G. and you do the same," the woman announced. "And have a great birthday-weekend!"

"Thank you, baby. I am going to try."

Both women kissed each other on the cheek and briefly embraced. Davina ran a gentle hand across Tristan's curls and gave him a gentle pat on his back. Then she stepped back from the small group of people.

"Alright Ma…" Trigger then turned to the children. "Okay kids, let's go," he announced. "Now, get in formation… And march!" he ordered, with mild authority in his tone. The three children formed a line, going from shortest to tallest person, and they began to march towards the exit. Trigger followed them, chanting. "Left-left-left-right-left… Left-left-left-right-left…"

Mrs. Grant chuckled as she watched them. She glimpsed at Raquel. She murmured another farewell to the woman.

Once her third-oldest son left the tent, she turned her attention to the dancefloor. It was now void of dancing bodies and was a graveyard for confetti and balloons. Her eyes took in the other life forms that were in the tent. Each person was helping with the clean-up process.

"Mom, you can go to bed, if you want to."

Davina turned to Dante, who was standing on her left side. In his arms, he held a rambunctious Lucien in his massive arms. Her eyes flickered to her son's face. "I will, baby. I just want to remember the last bit of this night," she told him. Her brown eyes gazed into the matching pair that belonged to her son. She surveyed the colorful orbs, in hoped of seeing his current mood. "How are you feeling, baby?" she asked him.

Dante formed a tight-lipped smile and he glanced down at his nephew's curly hair. "Mama, I will never feel alright about this," he confessed. "I haven't felt this scared since the day that you and dad told me about our…" He glanced around his surroundings. "…divergence."

Davina ran her fingers through Lucien's curls. "I know, baby. I know." She smiled at her grandson, who giggled. "Where is this precious boy's parents at?"

Dante raised the toddler in the air and proceeded to playfully shake the child's body with a vibrating motion. He watched his nephew stretch his arms out to the sides as he shrieked and laughed. "Airplane! Airplane! Lukie is an airplane!" he chanted to the boy. The tent was filled with laughter and shrieks.

The mother witnessed the interaction with a smile on her face. It was this kind of moment that was the deciding factor for her, when it came to using the chemotherapy. She wanted to live long enough to see her grandchildren grow older. She quietly figured that she would survive for another year before the cancer would claim her. Until then, she was not going to spend the rest of this time counting down the days.

"The last time I've seen them, they were talking in Tahiti," Dante informed his mother as he continued to play with his nephew.

Her brow crinkled with surprise. "Your dad's old office?"

"Mmm-hmm," her eldest child hummed. " _He_ was asking—

"Eric. His name is _Eric_ , Dante" she corrected him. She noticed his sideways glance at her. "Or, 'Dauntless _Leader_ Coulter… Whichever one that you prefer to call him."

Dante rolled his eyes. " _Eric_ …" he groaned. "…was looking for her, so I told him where she was most likely hiding."

Mrs. Grant smiled at her son and warmed up to the idea that her son was acting mature, when it came to Eric's association with Nasira. "That was nice of you," she complimented him. "And here I thought that you would probably do something that would land all of us in The Oculus," she jibed.

"Ma… I don't like the guy. But, I am not stupid enough to jeopardize my career and my life," he told her before settling the toddler down, into his embrace.

"Sooo… What do you think of him?" she inquired as she held onto her grandson's hands.

"From what I've seen tonight, he is a good father for Luke. I hope that he continues to be there for him. Being a faction leader and a father, at the same time, is hard. I hope that he is capable of handling both roles."

She smiled at her son. "I have a feeling that he can and he will," she pointed out. She glimpsed at Lucien. He was busy releasing a steady stream of babbling and squeals of laughter at his uncle. His hands and fingers were constantly moving to a frenetic rhythm. She recalled a moment in which she saw the child voraciously eating cake, earlier. "How many slices of cake did my Bunchie eat?"

Her son glimpsed at the boy and then at her. "When I picked him up, he was hanging out with Eula."

"Oh boy," she groaned as she rolled her eyes. "Eula… That woman would've allowed him to eat the whole-damned-cake, if it would've made him happy." She held her hands out. "Give me my grandbaby," she ordered. Once the pass-off was committed, she glanced at the baby. "Your mother is _soooo_ going to kill me, when she sees you," she joked.

Lucien giggled. "Nah-oh!" he giggled.

Davina smiled and nodded her head. " _Yeeaaaahh!"_

The toddler giggled, "Nah-oh!"

She chuckled. She stared at her son and mouthed the words 'good night' to him. She returned her focus on her grandson. _"_ _Yyyyeeeeaahhhh!"_ she drawled out as she strolled to the tent's exit.

"Nah-oh!"

Davina carried her grandson from out of the tent and to the kitchen section of the house. She said her 'good nights' and farewells to the relaxed guests that were straggling behind, before she entered the corridor. She made a left turn into the short hallway.

"Alright little man, it's time for us to pay the Pied Piper right now," she whispered into his hair.

She approached the entryway to her late husband's office and she peeked inside. She found the newfound parents asleep on the leather couch that was positioned against a wall. Eric slept in a sitting position, with the back of his head comfortably resting on the back of the couch. The mother and grandmother could've sworn that the sleep was already working wonders on him. The pale and ashen skin that was marring his complexion was being forced out. A healthy pink tint was flooding his cheeks. Nasira, on the other hand, was asleep with her long body stretched along the cushions' surfaces. She was using the top of the Dauntless leader's left thigh as a pillow.

Then her eyes spotted something: their hands. Eric's left hand was holding onto Nasira's own. Fingers were casually entwined with each other. Both hands were relaxing on the hill that was Nasira's left breast.

The sight that welcomed her, made her undergo an occurrence. It was relief. It was the type of relief that she hasn't felt in a long time. It was a familiar feeling. She used to get them, when she was a child, after she would've learned that her abusive father was going to spend his nights in town rather than in the home. It used to flood her core during her days as a Dauntless initiate, when certain trainers would glance pass her and pick out another person, another 'pansy-cake', to make an example out of them. As an adult, she used to have these sensations after the births of all of her children, during the first few weeks.

Lucien looked into the room. His right index finger pointed straight into the office. "Mama," he said softly. He glanced at his grandmother's face.

Davina peered down into his dark gray eyes. "Yeah. That's your mama and that's your daddy, too. They're sleeping, honey…" She eyed the scene again. She deeply sighed. 'They're going to be okay.' She smiled and then glanced at her grandson. She giggled. "What a bunch of party-poopers!" She giggled, once more. "Do you know that, Bunchie? Your parents are a bunch of party-poopers!"

The toddler chuckled while his hands clapped.

Davina chuckled and nodded her head. "It looks like you're bunking with me tonight, Bunchie." She stepped away from the doorway and she grabbed the doorknob. She kissed his forehead. "You're sleeping with your Nana, tonight—

"Gee-Gee!" he chirped.

"'Gee-Gee'?" she said to him. "Is this my name for me? You want to call me 'Gee-Gee'?"

Lucien chuckled. "Gee-Gee!"

"Well, alright…Gee-Gee, it is" the grandmother said to him.

Davina gave the sleeping parents one last glance before she closed the door as quietly as she could.


End file.
